Tiny Tales

blog Nov 03, 2020


We owe to each other

The stories we share; I'll tell

To the wind a hundredth time.

I remember as I say it; the chorus

It was, just right.

A loss in interest now,

Later innocence; would pass in my head

The echoes of the old time.

If I cry to you, it hurts,

If you can, favor walk back

I still have one soft-spot, somewhere & always.