“So what do you write about?” She asked
“Mostly? Hope. I write about hope,” I said.
“In other words, you write about things that haven't happened yet?”
I looked at her benign eyes and wonder when they'll hold me as I incurably fall into their depth day after day. And then I looked at the world around me and the thickness of colors the world is yet to know. Yet to breathe.
“Yes,” I said “things that are yet to happen”
Offline)
Comments3
Those things still to happen will be wonderful.
Andy
Sure they will.
firstly, your perfectly chosen picture immediately gifts the reader the perfect mindset to receive your flowing words on unrequited - but not yet surrendered tethers to yearned love, deceptively simple and yet relatable on so many levels,
a wonderful read
Thank you. Really appreciate it 🙏
I adored this....... a whole lifetime in a few short lines......... (and just a note aside..... I read your name and said it aloud just to hear what it sounded like and it sounded like a poem - that is if I was saying it correctly). I hope you finish the story...........
Well thank you. I appreciate it. I'm sure you were saying it correctly. It's sort of a nickname meaning father of Aeesh (no I'm not married. Probably too young to have a daughter —and I'm just realizing this — that I'm too hopeful and so even my nickname screams. Anyways...) thanks. I hope I finish it too 😊
Little Aeesh....... the world awaits her........
3 more comments
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.