I am awake in a dream that is not my own,
Walking down a path of lonely stone.
Each footprint I leave,
Is a memory lost of a place I once called home.
The evening sky is smeared with colors,
That only reveal it's beauty before death.
As I walk along this hard, cold path.
So peacefully in my solitude.
-A.M
YOU ARE READING
And then We Were Woke.
PoetryA creation made from the inner mind of yours truly. -please don't steal my work, please & thanks. -Stay Captivated✨
