deepundergroundpoetry.com
Walking Along
Walking along,
Holding hands.
She looked at something,
In the shop window.
Turned to me,
And said,
I love pretty things.
I answered,
Me to.
As I squeezed her hand.
Holding hands.
She looked at something,
In the shop window.
Turned to me,
And said,
I love pretty things.
I answered,
Me to.
As I squeezed her hand.
Published 3rd Dec 2014
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Anonymous
3rd Dec 2014 9:18pm
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3rd Dec 2014 10:28pm
4th Dec 2014 00:20am
4th Dec 2014 7:42pm
