I fall beneath a cloak of
fitful sleep. I do not know
how far I will go - nor how
high the seagulls fly.
Opinions are subjective to
experiences. In the sunrise,
I have no feeling. (Tides
flood the shores swiftly.)
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Me {Poetry}
PoetryWith power there come words. And with words there comes music. And with music there comes joy. And that's why I write poetry.
