Why does the idea of a hug and a long late night talk always seems so warm,
seems so warm and so appealing only after they're gone?
They wondered;
They cried.
(Missed last goodbyes and their weight on the chest)
YOU ARE READING
Misfits et al.
Poetry[An Experimental Attempt] A book of poetry that doesn't always rhyme; towards yet another attempt to dwell into realities, emotions and dreams-trying to scratch away layers without tearing them up. Thank you for checking them out.
