"That wasn't very fair" he'd said,
"I'm sorry" was my mumbled reply
As I wiped more tears from my face,
"I meant on you" he almost chuckled,
And five minutes later he was gone,
And I had collapsed in my hallway.
g.c.g
YOU ARE READING
The blossom of a poet
PoetryWords fall softly like the petals from a blossom tree, drifting slowly onto the paper, creating poetry like the spring, beautiful and light, but just like the seasons, the poetry changes, the autumn comes and the words become heavy, falling quickly...
