Young Writers Society

Folded in my arms
you are a butterfly in reverse,
Giving up your wings, will deliver my curse.
Your letting to of me.

i think you meant "GO"

Your letting to to

again the same word "GO"

Sail to an island unknown,
Failing to find your way back home
Leagues beneath, and miles afar
too far away from me, your star.

added this orange part instead just to see how it sounds.

All those perfect days comma made of glass,
Put upon a shelf where they can cast
cast a lovely portrait,one I know will last

one i know where perfect shadows that stretch and grow,
On the imperfect days down below.

Will always remind me of
of the meaning in my life,
which is you and only you.

dogs wrote:All those perfect days made of glass,
Put on a shelf where they can cast
Perfect shadows that stretch and grow,
On the imperfect days down below.