My dad used to tell me to look up to the sky when I needed to cry.
You know, to stop the tears
Well, last night
I counted a lot of stars
YOU ARE READING
They will be missed
PoetrySome die Some starve Some cry Most cut And they will be missed Some are alone Some are lost in a crowd Some yell out and moan Most do not voice their troubles aloud And they will be missed #1 Poetry #2 Random
