sad (Remove filter)
The flower in my hand
I hold this flower
In my hand.
Yellow and perfect.
Like European star.
Like my heart
Is bound to this place.
My ear used to different languages,
My nose used to all these smells,
Smells of freedom.
In a continent of so many colours,
Blossoming friendships
And beautiful memories.
I keep this flower alive
As long as I can.
I know it will die
Like the freedom
That leaves us.
E...
Monday 16th March 2020 10:37 pm
Recent Comments
John Coopey on Eradicating an old flame pain
18 minutes ago
Reggie's Ghost on Wild Dogs
2 hours ago
rob1967able on tearing us apart.
2 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on Sitting To Write
6 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on Peninsula
6 hours ago
Carpe Diem on Breathe
6 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Peninsula
10 hours ago
Auracle on In memoriam...
12 hours ago
Auracle on Fred's dilemma
12 hours ago
Auracle on Another Shadow
13 hours ago