My poem has only two lines
One line is the distance
One line is you
Who painted the distance into mountains and rivers
The rest of my life is the end of the world
Who painted you in my heart
The spring breeze blows through the mountains
No more longing for the rest of my life
By now I read this poem at least four times if not five. I think there are some freewriters around here who will like it too.
I hope you are doing well Brian, I wish you a creative weekend.
@el-nailul @ibesso
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