Roots of how we lived.
Monday morning and it is a quarter to noon.
I open my dreary eyes and I am thinking of you.
Remember, how it used to be?
Between you an me, laughing hilariously.
Those memories; the roots of our existence.
Tell me how they became simple words in a sentence.
Currently there are no comments related to "Roots". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
