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If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since February 2019
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Summer's song

February 14, 2019

Her voices voice was soft, like the colors of the wind

Her eye's were a cascade of colors : soft pinks, fire oranges ,and pale yellows. 

Everthing about her was pure, and sweet when it came to her.

But I can't have her.

she sings only for the heavens now,her blonde water fall curls  make me cry  

I miss her summmer song so very much.

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