Where

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  • Sadness

    Where
    I wander down a path alone
    Find someplace to call my home
    Wish to find just a friend
    Always by me til the end
    Humble home we'd fill with love
    And the blessings from above
    Live love and laugh
    At the times we have
    Enjoy them now
    Or wonder how
    They have come and gone

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    MentaLfloss127’s Poems (12)

    Title Comments Submitted
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