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Dead Letters

Poetry

We are Afraid. The supposed Ones with bravery of hearts are weakened because of affection. Now we lay low on succulent beds and Undercovers. These are my honest Dead Letters.

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Far

31 8 1

by TheAfricInk

by TheAfricInk

                                    
                                              The least we ever did
Was hold hands so perfect
I wished you wouldn't let go.
                          But, you did.
                          This time far off my fingers' reach
Stretched off my wings and Far off from where I could see you.
                          There's no better way
Of saying I love you anymore.
Maybe, a long gaze and broad smile.