Maybe, we're not meant
to be together.
Maybe, we're just a
stopover for each other.
A temporary place to meet,
a temporary happiness,
where we'd like to sit
and talk to relieve our stress.
Maybe, we have
different destination.
Maybe, you're going north
and I to the opposite direction.
We're heading to a place
where we can't see each other again.
Counting the remaining days,
hoping to see you again.
Maybe, we're just strangers
who happen to meet at the road.
Maybe, we're just destined
to help and remove each other's load.
-----
[sidenote: or maybe I was mistaken]
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Falls
Poetrywhere thoughts that lie at past midnight are soulfully translated into words *prose and poetry collection*
