ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ʜᴜᴍꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴡ, ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ꜱᴏɴɢ,
ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ʙʟᴜʀʀᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ.
ɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱ -
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡ,
ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡ.
ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ "ʜᴏᴍᴇ" ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋᴇʏ;
ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ, ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜱᴇᴀᴛ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀꜱ.
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Author:
Lilmoonxx (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 5th, 2026 04:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Atticus_made
- In collections: Unspoken Notes.
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Comments2
very smooth to read through! I see you discovere dhow to change your fonts as well, it suits the poem
So true it is some say home is where the heart is you say home is where the mind is. Nicely done
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