It was on sunny Saturdays when we would lay in the grass and look up at the clouds.
Laughing together as they formed shapes as they danced across the sky.
But now I lay on the grass alone.
And no matter how hard I try, the clouds just don't look the same anymore.
That's just one more thing you took with you when you left.
YOU ARE READING
At Least You're happy
PoesíaA collection of uncapatalized thoughts. Simply thought of, simply written