She told me to write again,
to put down some words and do what I love most
But little does she know about how fearful I am,
for words have brought us together, our words was what we craved the most so what if, just imagine, what if my words now fail to keep her satisfied?
JE LEEST
Come what may
Poetryain't it wonderful how we hold on to life by simply finding something worth living for? and even stranger it is that it might be that in that very specific search for happiness that we end up finding something completely different...
