|| ◷ Tempo de leitura: < 1 Minuto ||
My piano keys are stuck,
Prophets of solitude and
Aching disruptive sounds.
My heart strings were broken
By life’s wine flavoured nights
And everchanging places.
I sit by myself looking
Through my window
At the stary night sky.
A cold summer breeze
Closes my eyes shut
Into a blues wonderland.
Painting By, Pierre Jean van der Ouderaa, “The Song of Love”
Também Gostarás:
- All the Satellites Were Gone All the satellites were gone, My feet were naked on the ground, I stood by myself As the narrow sun...
- O Meu Canto Literário Mesmo antes de criar o meu canto no bookstagram os thrillers/policiais já ocupavam grande parte da minha estante....
- Despedida de Verão Se o Verão não tivesse fim...
- Tristemente Feliz Ser feliz, mesmo estando triste, longe da estupidez alheia...
Mais
Generational Trauma
I am an adult now. Which means I get to handle things by myself. As I should, but it suffocates me with uncertainty
All the Satellites Were Gone
All the satellites were gone, My feet were naked on the ground, I stood by myself
As the narrow sun went down.