A Poem of the Displaced Kyiv keys lie alone in the drawer.
Keys need a purpose, a door.
Far from home lying there alone.
Waiting for a day, a lock to turn.
One day soon, my dear keys
We will return, again your lock to turn.
Your door to open and return home. Share Your Poetry
This is augmented's journey, Growing up, poetry was always an outlet for me- not just to express my emotions but also…open.substack.com