Summer wind,
hot beaches!
Voluptuous tune of sea.
Pile of snowflakes,
the spectacles seen at the top.
Fireworks and kite flying in blue.
And my rusty bed.
All in my illusion.
Aching back,
hot heads at work.
Pile of stuffs to do.
Notes of unchecked bucket list.
All in my reality.
Rain don't want to shower the grace,
even rainbow is tired to reveal itself.
World become my enemy.
All I just want is to feel again my younger years.
YOU ARE READING
Hang - Leave
PoetryHanging for something is a choice and it depends; if you will leave or if they will leave you. (c) Kit Sandoval for the wonderful Cover 😎
