It wasn't the perfect day
Or the perfect year
Or the perfect month
But I was sure lucky
To be able to wake up
I didn't give my last breathe
My mother didn't spill tears for my demise
I haven't reached the sky
Nor had I crumble back to ashes
It may not be perfect
But it was certainly livable-strangers
YOU ARE READING
Poems that butter your toast
PoetryA compilation various of poems The thoughts of a dreamers I am no one And you?