It fell from the willows
In dying breeze,
The sun lost its heat
You could barley hear a weep.
Streets were silent
Cars broke down to wretched forms,
You could almost feel the cold in your sleeves
The trees said it all.
Why question it?
It is death of past destructions
For when that leaf fell,
A rose bloomed
And you began again.
YOU ARE READING
Mystique Me [Poetry]
Poetry"But your here with me, and you didn't choose the fall, I did I chose it for you." -Downward Bicycle *** All the poetry in this book is subjective, your perspective of what I'm saying or what a character is trying to convey can be very different fr...
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