Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

France

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
I know the feeling of this country
It grows on me once again
Imperceptibly
For a month, a week
A day
And when the time comes to shed it, I
Become aware of it, as
It grows steadily smaller and
Slips away
I watch it with
Some kind of
Longing laced with sadness
Until it floats behind a cloud
And hides,
And disappears.
And I look down onto
A glistening, glittering sea of
Gently stolen tears -
The tears of those like me who
Left,
Afraid they might
Never come again.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback