remorse
drowning in solitude,
with a beer can next to him,
an open notebook on the mattress,
the ashtray on the windowsill,
and his eyes fixed on the pages
of his previously written poetry.
feeling like he wasted his life,
penning the unlived,
but what could he do?
he was an observer by nature.
Luka.
very bija puisinya and very experienced in writing poetry friend @lukakorba
Thank you, my friend. :)