Apr 2020
Spring has come around,
Yet there isn't any colour.
The walls are rumbling,
Yet the windows do not shatter.
My feet are planted firmly on the ground,
Yet I feel like I am floating.
What has happen?
What has become?
I was told all is fine,
Yet I want to run.
Yet there isn't any colour.
The walls are rumbling,
Yet the windows do not shatter.
My feet are planted firmly on the ground,
Yet I feel like I am floating.
What has happen?
What has become?
I was told all is fine,
Yet I want to run.
Found a poem I wrote when I was about 15 and thought I would add it in as a little series.
Was looking for my personal favourite poem but it seems to be lost. Sadly. But I found this little fella instead. So hope you enjoy the first snippet.
Was looking for my personal favourite poem but it seems to be lost. Sadly. But I found this little fella instead. So hope you enjoy the first snippet.
