Like a star shining
Like a star falling
But they keep calling
us unreal anyway
Feeling of leaving
Outside of sleeping
what's point of keeping
the song of ours play
Sometimes I'm sorry
YOU ARE READING
Ripped Pages of Poetry
PoetryNowadays I'm thinking a lot in English. Which means I'm writing a lot in English. The grammar is terrible, but writing it down is the only way to improve.
