The Unknown

May 27, 2012
More by this author
The wind doesn't hit them
The sun rays do not gleam on them
They leave in a land that doesn't exist

They cry in the corner
Waiting for someone to find them
To feed them the words
That they yearn to hear

The melancholy in the place
Is to hard to imagine
No one speaks
Only you hear The breath of brave,sad souls
Waiting to exist

All that they wish
All that they yearn
Is to fit in that place where the sun hits and the wind blows
The place where they can be heard

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback