Torn from a time where everything was perect / To a time where I was stuck
Short poem about moving and realising things. I originally wrote it in Dutch and that one is much better. Anyone interested in that version?
This is a blackout poem from pages 158 and 159, of the novel I Am David by Anne Holm.
Like, comment, follow. Ever lost someone?
Like and comment; what is your favorite memory?
No poems
No more poems
Opps, something went wrong :(