Walking around this desert town,
This lonely beach that is in high tide,
With no seagulls around to caw at nothing,
This place seems a lot more like a empty place,
Yet one person still sits on the porch of their house,
The eyes aged and seen much in such short years,
Just the sounds to water on the ocean breeze,
The tide now reseeds and the one person goes inside
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment