the fire our fire everything we built from everything we had Our nothing. sparks flew around a conflagration, That was burning fire growing on the liberated spirits once dying of pain -'18.12.13
。on my window sill close to the edge sits a box of whispered wishes full of everything that I have let go of full of everything of everything that I should'nt hold on to 。
Nice job, gal! Your poems have a certain, nice personal feel to it which makes it easy to relate. Keep it up!
ReplyDeleteThank you! This really means alot 😊
ReplyDeletemy pleasure! you are very talented, keep it going!
Delete😊
DeleteSo Real and Intense
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