I used to know a Nightingale
sometimes she would sit on my windowsill and I'd imagine
shooting her dead
because her music reminded me
of who I once was
other times like today
I'd imagine she would sit there
just so I could hear her sing like in the old days.
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Author:
Teddy.15 (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2026 05:26
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 3
- In collections: My Raven Collection.
Offline)
Comments1
Memories sometimes good sometimes bad but always a doorway to the past. Nicely written Teddy
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