deepundergroundpoetry.com
Swinging
The day we were
swinging on the
swing: did I
really know you
then? You were
my shelter and
my shade. I am
still standing where
you left me: do the
flowers that I sent
you mean anything or
only scent?
swinging on the
swing: did I
really know you
then? You were
my shelter and
my shade. I am
still standing where
you left me: do the
flowers that I sent
you mean anything or
only scent?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 42
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.