I wrote it here, somewhere
On someone's heart,
Under someone else's sleeve.
Oh! But I had lost it!
It was a true masterpiece.
But now I can't remember how it began
But I remember how it ended.
It ended with a promise.
A promise by me.
To meet you at the gates.
Now I am left with an uncomplete verse.
A song without rhythm;
A life without tense.
I am just waiting for someone to begin it all over again.
YOU ARE READING
creep you up
PoesíaA short collection of lyrics and poetry from my teenage years, so bear with me.
