In The Alley
Between the bird song
And the dirt,
Beneath the
Leaves in the alley,
Where the broken glass
Hides its secrets,
Glinting in
The morning sun
Like a child’s stolen treasure,
We found a new excuse.
Between the bird song
And the dirt,
Beneath the
Leaves in the alley,
Where the broken glass
Hides its secrets,
Glinting in
The morning sun
Like a child’s stolen treasure,
We found a new excuse.
Leave a comment