Poetry is more than just words of rhyme,
It is A style of attitude...
To be born at your own funeral,
I know this sounds so strange...
Time goes on , And so do I,
Just like time, I can crawl or fly...
Often times, situations arise,
Seemingly strong enough to take control...
Let me sing,
loud and clear...
You will die
the voice whispers...
A walking shadow?
A poor player...
We are always asked why
why are we alive...
What if there's no heaven?
No golden, pearly gates...
Time is the trees in the breeze,
Time is the hanky in which we sneeze...
School
Stressful, Difficult...
No more than 2 sentences to write
when there are thoughts a million...