Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2019
Every day, you look at the sunset.
It's the end of a day, and a beginning of a night.
A cold, lonely night.
Yet you hate lonely, cold things.

So why is it, that you enjoy looking at the thing that starts what you hate the most?
Back again.
8M
Written by
8M  F/At the Edge of the Galaxy
(F/At the Edge of the Galaxy)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems