Yes, I write poetry. It’s not very good, but I like it.
Are they mine?
Are they ours?
Perhaps simply borrowed.
They are happily taking the sun,
And give not oxygen,
But peace.
They grow, and grow, and
Grow.
Are they mine?
Are they ours?
Perhaps simply borrowed.
They are happily taking the sun,
And give not oxygen,
But peace.
They grow, and grow, and
Grow.