A young couple stroll along the sidewalk at night,
The round moon shines above them, making the black ink sky look bright,
It was cold, bitter cold, so they held on to each other so tight.
Purple, and blue, red and pink, orange and green,
twinkling little lights lit up the scene,
The young couple talk on,
Imagining every kind of scheme,
If they were a drink, the tall one would be black coffee and she'd be the cream.
Hands enfolded inside a pocket, they smile,
Every inch they take becomes a mile,
The young couple walk on,
talking and laughing all the while.
YOU ARE READING
Easier To Forget
PoetryPoems. // Hi, hello. This is a sort-of memoir/journal of unorthodox poems that I've written over the years. I started writing in 2015. Glad you're here (: Feel free to leave comments and vote or w/e. ×Mysneakz [Completed]
