Sometimes I wish that this is all but a bad dream
That I'd wake up still lying in your arms
when morning light slips in.
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
PoetryA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
Relapse
Sometimes I wish that this is all but a bad dream
That I'd wake up still lying in your arms
when morning light slips in.
