Yeah.
It felt… real.
Like you weren’t trying to impress—just letting the words fall.
And they did.
Clean.
Quiet.
Like rain on a tin roof after everyone’s gone to bed.
I liked how it didn’t pretend to fix anything.
Just sat there, wet and honest.
So yeah—
it was good.
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Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 17th, 2026 17:13
- Comment from author about the poem: Time, conversation or words placed correctly, I think is good!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Demar Desu - 德马尔·德苏
Offline)
Comments1
Pure sensation with no substance is poetic as it runs on like a stream down hill. Very nice William
Thank you friend
You are always most welcome William
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