Writers XXVII par steven These are the real Poets/writers The ones with glasses and Always taking pictures In black/white 1
Writers VI par steven For you to be reading this At this exact time Is not an honor It was meant to be. 1
Aroving par steven What heart would whisper another Sense will hardly learn; and Wandering mind could cluster Indefinite at dark forests in angu Of sight and vicious earthly being
Let Me Not Seek Before My Faith Is Sealed par steven Let me not seek before my faith is When the buds are trimmed for love Not for unusual traits or heart wr And not for solidarity to beg or r Some debt; which my heart will dec 2
Truth Of All Lies par steven The truth in the midst of lies, th Threat and stab; heart could never The poor lies of filled wealth whi In albatross of the world at will. And to slip and bleed from a restf 2
Song of his words par steven There are sweetness in his blazing Admiration of kind mind that winds So, why halt? when the symphony Of grasp still commence, I can see the shadow line of where 1
Their Offspring par steven I wish i was born in the old days, Greatly about how they look, when Work with knowledge that makes the They all have many sense than one I wish i was an endowed poet then, 2
Great certainty par steven A simple choice is a great certain For her own sacred delight, With love among all odds And transparency among every refle With death above usual peace, 1 2
seal the deal par steven why do you take years in craving what can’t last?, perhaps a little bit trust may be that angry gravy eyes you stare wi burst in horror!, 2