When I’m Done With Growing Up.



One day I’ll write a poem about my younger days

The adventures and the silliness of my heart

One day I’ll remember the faul beauties I value

Wild flowers of thorns I insist on tendering.

Love is for the timid souls who knows not the ecstasy of standing alone.

@poetdimas.

Advertisements
Categories: Tags:

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s