Winter when thou will come?
My feet oddly pressed, hardened, from the ground
The sight of you remind me of something against my skin, air;
I needed, I wanted, but sadly cannot be seen, nor got sound
Hence, in this small little thing, I tried to seek and hear on what's bare
The little smart remark, ouncing the loud personality I never had in me
Little joy I had whenever our mouth with our chuckles would synchronized from the distance
I could reach you within this string attached, not completely
But then, you had encircled in my heart, fluttered, danced as u made it with nuance
Every little things, from the coffee, from the early morning
From the late night evening, from the crushes of dreams
From the lifeless promises, from the nails between sighing
And those light I saw in you, in us as two, currently seem completely dim
And I saw those crisping leaves, typing love, morning sky, unlike before, my smile never waver
As it's been spring, autumn, winter, and the repetitive merciless summer
- Shakespearance Sonnet
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...
