Within the worn purse,
Lie coins from years past,
Some tucked 'neath crafted words,
Concealed now too frail
To hold, imprinted faces
Of times I once fled; worries eased.
Time lets coins fall free,
With heaviness unknowingly.
Promises hastily made
Cannot be futile,
Nor upheld for just cause.
The truth, they did request.
To unveil what lay dormant,
Yet where does this tale begin?
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Author:
Rohan Regi (
Offline) - Published: June 1st, 2023 11:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
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