Mahsa's page

Mood: Sad
Listening to: Poems

Days come; days go.

I count days of my life as they go.

Pine trees reaching to the sky.

I feel the cold mountain breeze trough my lungs.

Like a whisper to my ears

… Winter is coming…winter is coming.

Soon my lonely days will be white.

A long long white.

Without hoping for a footprint.

My only visitors, begging for food though faithfull enough to com everyday!

Oh, I'm so lonely these days.