Poetry

As It's You Sometimes your memories become a museum , A museum I roam, getting myself lost. Sometimes your ticking love becomes my life , My life I live , till you are there. Sometimes your smile becomes my dreamscape, My dreamscape I get myself painted in , with love. A Drug of Choice , My sweet Nector to suck . A Radio to Music Notes , My solemn Solace . A Rainbow of Sky , My color's to life . A bitter-sweet taste to the tastebuds , My Healing Healer . Sometimes your smell of summer becomes my fragrance…