as autumn goes
part of the tree falls
leaves detaches itself and dries
facing series of winter days
cold, with whistling winds
swinging warm hearts to rest
sad sonata rhyming the heart beats
enclosing the love and memories
as tears slowly drops
from those gliterring brown eyes
sealing the story from these papers
with silence, reality, and tears,
to my old brown box...
No comments:
Post a Comment