Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Somewhere

Where that sound comes from?

Where it goes?

Abandoned from existence to come over again,

Abandoned from myself,

Leaving me abandoned.

With my breath it comes and goes

Somewhere

That i don't know.

Where that touch comes from?

Where it goes?

Somewhere, I don't know.

◄ No one

Some 20 little steps away ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message