If people came with manuals,
I don't think you'd have one.
You're not one single
Story,
Season or
Street
That could be typed away in words,
Printed in mere pages
And sent to all those who
Crave your wild soul.
You're way too many seasons at once,
A painting whose painter got wild
As he threw up every colour
The universe could wear.
So, let me love you and show you
All your best places and
In my heart, you'll know
That you're not meant
To be defined ever.
Author's note: People have bad hair days, poets have bad poetry days. :')
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Raindrops | Poetry
PoetrySitting under the rain, hoping to drown in things other than my thoughts. [ collection of poems, musings and more ] Also read 'Mixtape', under my profile. Cover by Simran, @SweetSimu #itsnotaphase Highest Ranking: #9 in POETRY as of 27/04/2018 (when...
