There is this thing It frightens me and Scary at the same time, They are tiny voices Very small but weirdly
When you are wealthy: Many shall be your friends and Few shall be your fans and; All will be your death.
Is life meant to be? Is love meant to stick? Is death meant kill? What chapter do you call this? In this chapter, I have wept for…
I am a father I am a mother I said I’m a friend! Your friend A neighbour
My favorite Kind of people Are poets, Writers But I respect
I love Everything That will Make Me
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,
Life is a maze and death Is the way out.
The moon should be Cautious of us Because one day we will Be looking Down to her And She shall pledge to us
I write when am lonely When the world is at its Wicked peak, I write when am scared When the thunder is kissing
I have spread the sheet to my bed… Now that there is no more experien… Now there is no more poetry, and n… There is nothing new to write abou… Under the sun or far away from bey…
At first, when the wind blows and… Dims and when the cock crows aloud… Your conscience leaps and with you… With your sour-lips and a curved h… Either your breath stinks or not,
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…
Hiya. I’m just checking in How are we all doing? I hope this year haven’t swept us… Family & relations good?
Now, have you seen? The black mane of a dark horse As it slithers and kiss the marble… Now the whore petticoat, cloaks an… On a starry night whispers its oat