Her footsteps sauntered on, like an old soul song sung by some heartbroken lover a long long time ago. And like its haunting melody, I hold on to the fading memory like footprints in the January snow. Oh, and I don't know where they go, so I can't follow.
My thoughts float on the wind to places I've probably never been, but I've got my feet planted firmly in this ground. Oh, I taste the rain as it falls down, and I can't follow.
No comments:
Post a Comment