I wanna age like wine.
And get finer every year.
But in truth, I age like cheese.
.
.
.
.
.
Within two weeks, I'm already rotten and in the trash.
YOU ARE READING
A Prose With No Direction
SpiritualA prose with no direction. A mind with no guidance. A human without a purpose. That is the kind of story I hate to be. That is the kind of story I, unfortunately, am.
