Quill

I plucked out every single piece of freedom I had

To write to you

Of how I felt and how it may not become

The future in the way of fiction

That dreams should be able to survive

Would still fade with time

And some stories would be unheard of

In time

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s