See me
The way the sun glares at the entire universe
The way mountains peak at the flying birds
The way ocean watches the gray clouds pass by
Feel me
As the blind man seeks the rusted strings of his old guitar
Like the soft white sands under the sole of my feet
Similar to the black and white keys of grand piano on my fingertips
Love me
For every wrong, I'll make it right
For every blue, I'll turn it to hue
For every tears, I'll erase your fears
For every moment, I'll convert to years
For every you, there will always be a loving me.
YOU ARE READING
Archer
PoetryCollection of proses. [Prose] - A verbal or written language that follows the natural flow of speech. It is the most common form of writing, used in both fiction and non-fiction.
