Oh God,
How the stars look different now,
They once were like a blanket
To keep me warm without you there,
But now they're just a reminder
Of everything I have left behind,
And how truly alone that has made me.
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...
