Dreams are the part of us.
We need the white, the deep.
Everlasting until....
Ever is the last thing remembered.
Trailing in your wake,
Dreaming lends a new soul.
The mist in your eyes is.
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About Me
- Zahra
- I'm pretty off in the head. But I love you, so it should be alright, in the end.
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2 comments:
A natural-born poet, I think . . .
:)
Not as good as your poems, though.
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