Our Love is the dust in the air;
A remnant of what was once alive;
A reminder of what I threw away.
Our love is the stones turned to sand.
It's been battered and bashed by barrelling waves
laid out, trodden on, and drowned.
But castles can be made from the sand
It won't ever be the same.
It may once again collapse
Or it may be improved upon.
A design of our own.
-
Author:
Anonamus (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 2nd, 2019 11:16
- Category: Love
- Views: 9
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.