If you can write a single poem, just one solitary poem, that is more than enough, for it proves that you are alive. Words are the free-flow of your spirit, for those who are dead within seldom write, and those who write are seldom dead. |
In the cold light of the morning,
Today no palm birds sing or love birds twitter...
Squirm in murky lairs of hate --
gasping, suffocation, intoxication...
Squirm in murky lairs of hate --
gasping, suffocation, intoxication...
Crash, like a socket let go.
The bulb kissed the ground for the very first...
Break into the light that shines, as you slowly...
You, the wind who always tricked me. Teasing my...
Raindrops pierce into the pores of my skin,
freckled and rashed, thirsty for its touch...
*I know the title has been done and is over-used...
You came to me like words, broken...