I want to go back to the time, when they always used to ask me what do I want to be when I grow up. I would answer, I want to be a writer. Then they would give me a lot of books to read and pens and million sheets of paper. They would want to leave me alone in my own writer's time and write my heart out until my hands got callouses. But here I am, setting aside my college math books, writing another thought to share. Thinking about how would I meet my poetry if I was brought back in time.
I loved writing this :D A total relate! High five?
YOU ARE READING
Love, Pain & Poetry [✓]
PoetryI think of you. I think of you in the very depths of my mind. Like Lava you flowed through, Burning my brain cells to dysfunction. A collection of original poems and prose about Love, Pain, and Poetry.
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