Standing by my window
I hear
the wind passing by.
And all the melodies
that sweep along
entailing tales
from far and wide.
No hems can
block its passage.
No men can
halt its march.
It just whirls by
leaving a trail behind.
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 8:29 AM UTC
Standing by my window
I hear
the wind passing by.
And all the melodies
that sweep along
entailing tales
from far and wide.
No hems can
block its passage.
No men can
halt its march.
It just whirls by
leaving a trail behind.
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