Smiling we greet,
Weeping we part,
The short while in between
The interval called life.
I agree with you--
These farewells are but
Preludes to death.
A/n: All things come to an end, so with joy. But we shall meet again, in sha Allah.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Blues
PoetryTonight, my love is the rain that fills the heart while it lasts and leaves sweet pain in its wake. Poems-- my way of clearing my mind. Highest Ranking: #3 in Poetry ~~~ 18 December 2016
