Sometimes I have to stop during the day, and wonder why, when a certain time comes, all of a sudden everything becomes more nostalgic; this thought does not last long because the phone rings, someone calls you or greets you from afar, and everything magically starts to run as fast as possible.
The evening arrives though, it arrives for everyone, and as far as you want to escape from your thoughts, here they arrive punctually like a Swiss watch.
YOU ARE READING
Different days, different ways
PoetryA miscellaneous of little poems, and thoughts.
