Waiting for you,
I fold the blanket every day, spread it out to fold it again.
I renew the water in the vessel, empty it to fill it.
And I look at the birds from the window,
They land, then fly away.
It seems to me that I am the only one in this world who remains here and does not fly.
YOU ARE READING
Taste Of Anger
PoetryI choose anger instead of sorrow I prefer madness over sadness I never want to be a victim. cover © : SIILDA
