The streets that I stray…
dusty with emerald mystery.
Still they call my name.
All thoughts and fears…
pebbled with blind trust.
To be a wild winged bird…
I would not know where to start.
To whisper into the wind…
I would not know where to begin.
…
Drifting has become a part of my woolen and woodsy need to be there.
With every nesting squirrel.
With all wild lingerers…
I roam just to be.
A law student and an avid reader. Along with your desired book reviews you're gonna get great book suggestions. Books of all genre with detailed review. Thank you, Visit Again ❤️
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My life with obsessive-compulsive disorder and Pure-O, in hopes of a community that understands
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