Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
How slowly time passes
As we stand apart
Playing with fire
Incinerating our past into ashes

Waiting for spring,
As if it hasn't sprung

Bloom to Wilt to Bloom again
It is what was intended
Because you began
Where I ended
Greca Cortes
Written by
Greca Cortes
149
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems