How could you leave it behind in the dust and you say it to be your fate
How could you leave it to wilt there like a flower without the sun
You promised to come back to it you have not
It is lonely now without an owner like a stray dog
Isn’t it creeping back into your mind? Shouldn’t it?
Where young artists paint the world with words
The international magazine of stories, poems, and art by young writers and artists. Published continuously since 1973.