And I didn't like it. I didn't like the way the stars stared at me. I bet they laugh at me, a feeble speck of hopelessness. The stars know I envy their twinkle; their omnipotent beam. The stars laugh at me, though I can't help but extend my gander with gritted teeth, and culpable eyes. The stars shine so bright. Bitter, blinding, bright.
I hope you write, and share that writing. This is beautiful, and this is coming from someone who has been obsessed with reading and writing for 29 years or so.
Testen Sie Ihre Fähigkeiten, machen Sie den Schreibtest.