Last summer seems like a distant memory now
as you angrily pass me in the street, head down...
I was always told growing up that I should
play fair and play nice...
We are like
A skyscraper...
So far, I’ve written some poems for you
some about love...
They say that the Phoenix
Rises from the ashes...
Just now,
I read, “at least we are under the same sky...
i don't know how she does it; after
waking up before dawn for two days...
We are all given gifts
At different times...
Sometimes reality is twisted
And then the world doesn't turn...
I’m an old soul
In a young body...
My pen is empty
As my words dry up...
When i write i come with the intention
To open your heart...