It's there, so close yet tucked away secretly, its oak colored walls listens to the secrets shared. Four dense walls extended into on capacious, tidy mancave. Some wished to possess such an ultramodern hideout, others even had it all. But about this little secret, it never dared to share its possessions nor dared to stop the little curious child, perhaps the adults as well in a different standard.
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia • Book One
Poetrycurrently - completed. ❝ 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ❞ Book One of Eunoia (Beautiful Thinking). A book with words dipped in emotions of a young soul. A book of different genres of poems and so on, but it's also just an...
