The pavements grey, smile at the stranger in me,Or perhaps they scoff.They scoff at the helpless Nomad in meThe suppressed voices in me. My hands, tired and coarseIs well aware of my past.My cold bare feet,Aware of the paths I had followed. Was it my heart or my hopeThat binded me to where I am …
The OnLy OnE ❄️
Read. Love. Live 