The Blossom Tree
As the face stands at the edge of the cliff,
It hears a whisper call it's name.
The blossom tree wonders if,
I am out of my pain.
A short poem.You may also like
You may also like
As the face stands at the edge of the cliff,
It hears a whisper call it's name.
The blossom tree wonders if,
I am out of my pain.
A short poem.
