I am a fool,
I know this to be true,
that I should dream
of the morning dew
covering the unkempt grass,
while birds sing wistfully
a song nothing else could surpass.
Yet the night is beautiful,
a darkness I call home,
still I dream of morning
while laying here all alone.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
I am a fool,
I know this to be true,
that I should dream
of the morning dew
covering the unkempt grass,
while birds sing wistfully
a song nothing else could surpass.
Yet the night is beautiful,
a darkness I call home,
still I dream of morning
while laying here all alone.
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