Jan 2015
I don't really belong
to a particular place.
Making temporary homes
of the people I meet.
Until they fall apart like the rest,
and I fall through the cracks.
*Life moves on without me.
to a particular place.
Making temporary homes
of the people I meet.
Until they fall apart like the rest,
and I fall through the cracks.
*Life moves on without me.
(30/F/MA)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
