Doesn't it sound lovely just imagining it?
Imagine the world spread out in front of you, you'd have no idea the world was really round, everything will be out right before your eyes and even if our eyes only catch 3 pigments, imagine the colors we haven't seen and all the places where they mix
Imagine that we dash like a noisy party throughout the whole world and journey with our white sails, the wind is our will and the rudder is our soul, steering us wherever we'd like
Just imagine
Imagine, all this is possible
When we turn 18.
YOU ARE READING
Not Quite, Midnight | poems
Poetry~she sets out to write for herself but casts a line from her ship of lunatics in case there was someone adrift trying to read along.
