Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2021
There, and away,
alone, and I can't stay.
Filled with lots of cry;
not a doubt, this is why:

On cities in all days,
it is there, felt always.
Everywhere, they'd lie,
clutch on, and then pry.

Yet, even with the pain,
oh still, we did remain.
But even if time will fail,
again, we'll write our tale.
03-31-2018
Lanz Gabor
Written by
Lanz Gabor  21/M/PH
(21/M/PH)   
  640
   deyrah
Please log in to view and add comments on poems