The thinker thinks day by day
About the problems she encountered
Her head was bent
Her forehead wrinkled
Her mind was off to somewhere else
But what she's really thinking
Is how did her life
Had fallen apart
Only by the love
That a person had gotten
And had never returned again
Now her heart is closed
And it only belongs to the person
That had stolen her heart
And had never returned.
CITEȘTI
The Lost Poet
PoezieA culmination of my life long relationship with words. This is a collection of poems written by a kid, a teen and a young lady. This is my life's journey in pieces.
