My memory might be fade,
My eyesight might be blurred,
My hair might be falling out,
My joints might be stiffed
My heart might be stop,
But I will never forget how we met
One day my warmth getting cold
I just want to grow old
With you,
my untold
-Spring Holiday
YOU ARE READING
a Cup of Imperfect Poetry
PoesiaThere will always be imperfection that will be filled with unexpected things. And that is you. Someone who completes a part of my life.
