You came to me in a dream last night,
the two of us, we were sat at a bus stop
under the florescent street lamp
lighting up the darkness of the night
and we sat there
and you held my hand
and you told me things were going to be okay
-a.h.
YOU ARE READING
whirring | 1
Poetry❝Hope is the thing with feathers that perches into the soul - and sings tunes without words - and never stops at all.❞ [welcome to whirring act one. this is the first installment of my personal poetry. these writings are so near and dear to my heart...
