The lilac sky in hues of pale blues Crying each day for desserts In the deserted lost town . Under the lamp post of hopes I still stand among castigated parchments. Those were dreams that I weaved . The winter has come, With my balmy breaths I am counting On my fingers some days of spring. Reminiscing the lush green expanse, This everlasting cold has choked the life. //Caption Caption, TionCap// //reposting my old poems, OG readers 🤫// Read here The lilac sky in hues of pale blues Crying each day for desserts In the deserted lost town . Under the lamp post of hopes
