Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
Rain drops into puddles,
water rippling as I see.
I've always thought about
tomorrow, now I've no
idea where I'll be.
When the sun rolls into
morning, I'll have things
I have to leave. I shove
A cork into the bottle.
Stop the rivers,
stop the scene.
Lyz Elysian
Written by
Lyz Elysian  20/F/America
(20/F/America)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems