Tuesday, August 4, 2020

217 of 366: Promise of tomorrw

Love the way your hair falls down
Like how golden leaves drop when autumn 
How my hand feels cold and tender
As the middle days of winter
When I'm with your presence
Rains of the world washed a new
But still in rain my heart flew
With random smiles
My heart flutters much
In face of crisis and uncertain tomorrow
I wish for you no sorrow
As tomorrow is not promised
But with you, it's not one to be missed

No comments:

Post a Comment