For death will applaud to us and w… To thee not death.
These are the real Poets/writers The ones with glasses and Always taking pictures In black/white
I have learned from so many arts And little art had learned from me… I have gazed at so many light And few lights had gazed at me, I have seek and wander for too lon…
Under the stripped trees in a pear… Winter, there i found a white blos… Dropped in a muffled sound-like And it formed A surface,
I walk Through This pattern Because This is
If i could love night more as my o… might and sleep next to night with… but just me and her blue iris sigh… her eyes that rest on beauty of endless flourish flight, owls, dog…
I feel like I have seen them all And buzzing around in black and wh… White socked into bleach of evils… They wish to break us all but With divine intervention we surpas…
I trust myself too much That I sometimes forget how To trust my pen.
I do not write my poetry for no-on… And every dawn, i do not reason wh… —On about mystic my work chaperon… Mystic is me but with more time yo… You will break the mystery and lea…
Publish a book Not pretense Share the words Not label Write your thoughts
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
Only If You Could jump Out
Is that still you sitting on a bul… Or am i just dreaming, maybe Not a bull after-all or is it a ho… Am i just whinnying, Is that the end of the road
Many could milk a cow or Learn how to milk a cow and Still obliterate to cluster the st… One take in milking a cow, Multiple could shoot a rifle in ev…
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,
