How does one's heart start to throbb?
Is it like a morning coffee, you prefer to grab?
Is it like the blanket you pull once night came cold?
Or the one you spent of your time that came as so?
How do you know it is love that bloom?
As it is not like the rain that washes away your room
Nor the sun that heats your face
But like a flower, you can intervene the phase
It is like a bird, you can set it free
No, I never said it's easy
You may ponder for awhile,
But as you know what is right, feel if it's not for the aisle
For love sets free, like the ocean who let his wave come back
And never forces its path
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
