eight grader. poet. writer.
♘ he fell first. she fell too late.
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Stories by route48
in the eyes of poète amoureux.
you're all oblivious
as you told me
you've fallen.
i have fallen in love
but you,
you've only fallen.
To The Poet
Eyes are glancing, winds are whistling, hearts are beating.
Minds were alike, so were feeling.
But, was that...