Much of it was overlooked
Much of it was lost
Any remnants left on my hands
I pick up and collect them carefully
Like picking up bones
YOU ARE READING
The Pointless Book
RandomJust a collection of pointless thoughts from a pointless girl
Unfinished Poem #42
Much of it was overlooked
Much of it was lost
Any remnants left on my hands
I pick up and collect them carefully
Like picking up bones
