Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
3d
Alone he sits,
in the field,
waiting for the birds to migrate,
from an eternal winter,
he hears their song no longer,
except when she smiles,
only when she's around,
does the sun fulfill its duties,
warms him,
for he is cold from the rain.
I'm alone.
Sins of a dreamer
Written by
Sins of a dreamer  15/M/the river
(15/M/the river)   
  117
   2
Please log in to view and add comments on poems