He was an art,
a beautiful one and I hung him,
in the gallery of my heart,so dear to me.
YOU ARE READING
Soles Of Her Heart
Poetry"She writes as her heart bleeds with pain, pouring the pain through inking the paper, yet the pain demands not to leave her. " Just want to start writing poems again. 🙃 -Z❤
He was,an art.
He was an art,
a beautiful one and I hung him,
in the gallery of my heart,so dear to me.
