Gaia
- Reads 13
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Oct 9, 2024
Ce n'est pas un roman, ce n'est pas une histoire. Mais plutôt un miroir qui montre ce soir un temps qui s'embrasse, un chant qui s'entrave.
C'est un poème, un poème qui n'est pas grandiose, mais un poème qui ose. Un poème aux mots simples au teinte d'étreinte. Une étreinte qui s'étiole. Une étreinte que nous êtres frivoles survolons de nos yeux, de nos yeux orgueilleux, oublieux.
Ps: Je ne suis pas quelqu'un qui écrit bien. Je suis encore jeune et parfois mes écrits pourraient être vu comme agressif. Ce n'est pas mon but. J'aime m'exprimer. J'ai longtemps hésité à publier ces quelques mots. Mais j'espère qu'ils vous plairont.
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#4
mere
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