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alavandalaPoems
january february march april may saturday sunday just another day so yet I have no songs to sing no aspirations that I dream there is a thing called Wanderlust an aspiration I don't touch if I cannot be right here I can't, in fact, be anywhere I'll always be locked in my mind looking for treasures I won't find and still I reach for something more my ship, it never goes ashore and I adore the mystery TALES OF ORDINARY MADNESS like an american I show my pride in black and white a colored world has a divide a sandcastle, it never fits inside the box of wind and mist but still I set my flame alight and fall into the dark dark night
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 2:10 AM UTC
you (me)
january february march april may saturday sunday just another day so yet I have no songs to sing no aspirations that I dream there is a thing called Wanderlust an aspiration I don't touch if I cannot be right here I can't, in fact, be anywhere I'll always be locked in my mind looking for treasures I won't find and still I reach for something more my ship, it never goes ashore and I adore the mystery TALES OF ORDINARY MADNESS like an american I show my pride in black and white a colored world has a divide a sandcastle, it never fits inside the box of wind and mist but still I set my flame alight and fall into the dark dark night
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alavandala
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 2:10 AM UTC
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