And I stared at him
The boy siting alone
A stranger to me
His chestnut eyes held the story
Of a broken boy with a mending soul
A cigarette pressed between his chewed lips
That probably tasted like smoke
His face was worn
Like he had seen too much
Like he had been too much
His smile was crooked
Something my heart longed to straighten
The moment my eyes touched his face
His body was marked with ink words
Metaphors and statements he knew inside-out
They reminded me of the imperfections he owned
The things that made me meet his eyes
And I stared at him more
And he stared back
Both wondering
Wondering what life had done to the other
And why
J.S
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Original Poetry
PoesíaBasically a book of my creative brain farts when I don't have the time to write a novel. Please vote and tell me which are your favourite! Some are a little depressing and triggering, I warn you before hand. *As you near the end of this book, you...
