Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2012
The sometimes stay,
But mostly drift,
Like our friendship,
These so many years,
Everyday,
There was a cloud above my head,
Until it suddenly cleared,
And then I saw the sun,
Which remains in a single place.
Alethea Westlund
Written by
Alethea Westlund
1.3k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems