As the hour grows late,
my mind begins to flutter.
The memories fly past
and I never seem to be able to catch them.
The time grows near,
as my eyes sink shut- so does my heart.
-
Author:
A Somber Soul. (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 13th, 2017 22:48
- Category: Love
- Views: 63
Offline)
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