Dear Destiny,
I wonder if we'll ever meet.
Hence this letter.
Doubts squander.
The people.
The places.
I wonder what they imply.
Every shooting star
I ever wished upon
Died.
I would love a reply.
Or to meet you in person.
Love,
Your hopeless one.
YOU ARE READING
Growing
PoetryA collection of cliche poems illustrating the struggles of a dramatic teenager accompanied by average photography.
