A fool i was to rest on beauty, To lean my back on gratitude, On just a sight and nothing but Just a sight of what i cannot Do nothing but please.
I am done losing my sense to tired… Bidding my streak with holliness, Conversing to the dawn in nakednes… Muting my ever so gracious talent In every nightfall,
There are many ways To start a poem and many Words to start one with. There are many ways to create A life and many styles involved
There are two art of wisdom; we ea… One seem like a sting of success,… Is filled with the sponge, soap an… Wisdom by losing is a cup crafted… To drink, shower and weep in it; i…
Today is never as lifeless like da… Was meant to be; the woods are idl… And birds pestering a harmless tre… And the squirrels knitting fiercel… And different people walking throu…
Writing is like drugs You will never stop wanting more Or trying so hard to see how high…
They should learn how to talk, When they sees one another—just fo… They should dry the coals and bury… Like half of us, so strength shall… But before you were born by them,
How i hate your dark crooked bows, The lynch of your exceeding notes Buried in your solemn voice, The way you twinkle like a white f… And the pace that you race
You would Notice I Always Use I Before you,
Nature is A beautiful And most Hated luxury But you
Turn my words to dust Turn from dust to dust Play my favourite type of blues Paint it from blue to blues Pour me a bottle of wine
Love for thee are naught, For every tears and every Pain love claimed will rot, Love to thee will glance no noon, For my heart will gently gain numb…
My favorite Kind of people Are poets, Writers But I respect
If your head Could think it Your hand Could surely Write it.
O, ye the bright sky summon thee Before the crimson light forsake n… With the numb cloud morosely still… So does the teardrop– warmish will… Lightening’ a little or with a pi…
