Faces Of My Youth
Childhood Nostalgia
The many faces of my youth
daintily hangs on the walls of my heart
each tribulation I encounter
I enthusiastically adorn a face
hoping I can relive the days of my youth
The days without pain
The days without sorrow
The days full of peace
The days full of laughter and freedom
About the Creator
Adoration Dominic
I love writing poetry
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Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti6 days ago in Fiction
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