anchors
you left me in the green field
feeling the warm night air
run through my hair like fingers.
and let the moist grass taste my salty tears.
as the summer night constellations
looking down on me with pity,
knowing that my only anchor
left me to be swept away
by the riptides of life because
of their cowardness.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
The Aging of Fine Wine || ✔
Thơ Ca- first poetry collection - accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. all wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle. -Paulo Coelho a poetry book filled of tales of heartbreak...
