Stir - {original poem}

Words
48
Reading
1 min
Listen
Play
10y

You find me
in perfect truths
and the greatest of whispers

between each slow tumble
I drop my fear
and am heard

sent reeling
but a stir all too good
where mistakes are unmade

can you promise tomorrow
can you be in it cos,
I am not afraid



Stir - {original poem} | Ecency