Our hands are never able to touchA Poem by Fin BuckleyI wonder why that is.I copy your pace, My stride matching your
own Perfectly. I laugh at all the things
You find humorous, So we are happy Together. Yet, when it is just the
two of us In the silence of a colorful evening, Our hands Are never able To touch. © 2017 Fin Buckley |
AuthorFin BuckleyAboutI simply enjoy writing. Let the littlest things inspire you, and let that inspiration run wild. You will find yourself making a lot of art when you do. more..Writing
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