My heart is a crosswalk.
A hundred people are walking,
Most of them aren't even noticing,
That they marked my heart with chalk.
Some leave stains every time they cross,
Others, stay in the middle of the road,
While the rest just passes by,
Bumping into each other,
Not caring about the sky, the sun, my eyes, nor my heart
My heart is a crosswalk.
Every day, a hundredth souls cross my path,
Fifty of them gave me a heart attack.
The other half smiled, waved, and left, without a word.
YOU ARE READING
Sad little girl
PoetryA collection of my poems; Exposing my soul... ? 🇬🇧&🇫🇷 /!\ These are written by me /!\
