his smiles are shaky,
he jumps at the smallest things.
those airy blue eyes of his are always filled
to the brim with an unnatural fear,
what's wrong?
that green notebook of his,
you never see him without it.
knee deep in poems and notes of his experiences,
he's a gentle young man,
mature beyond his years despite everything.
is he really seventeen?
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
daydream//a collection of poems
Şiir.+*thinking is all i'm good for, but I think I think too much. what's there to not think about? i'm lost.*+.
