Love Poetry Collections (SEASON 2)

10

Whilstsle

Along the edge of this breast,

Along the hillside of the mountain top,
I am almost down,
Perchance, someone got to knock me down still.

Hearing every shrill notes and loving those quotes I've carry inner me,
My spirit jostle as I breathe an air,
Whislt the birds flee,
My system buzz like a bee.

Unsteady and unprepared,
Into the upcoming waves of tragedy,
Where oceans are bloody,
When July summer nights crashed through the cloud-like smokes.

Along the edge of this breast,

As I reached the top,
And be void of those social insects,
I am an anti-social.

Along the edge, cannot remove it like a dredge,
The feelings stucked in a treasure box,
As I keep it, and now it was in my hands,
Whilst I am looking in my own shadow,

Whilst someone was there whistling...