Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
Sigh. All things part.
Friends, where are they now?
Returning to eastern stream,
My turtle friend has long departed life.
Strolling the street,
My friend had become a craftsman.
Back in the capital,
My friend had become a merchant.
Standing here where it all began,
I can only watch their path split apart.
old willow
Written by
old willow  17/M
(17/M)   
  278
   Shrika
Please log in to view and add comments on poems