The air was warm, but now it's cold.
The man was young, but now he's old.
He feels they go hand in hand,
Through the wind, snow and sand.
The seasons pass, and so do they.
July, October, December, May.
YOU ARE READING
Foreign Heart - A Poetry Collection
PuisiEmotions continue to perplex me, and this is me simply trying my hardest to understand where they come from and what they mean.
