I have written More love Poems than A conductor Would ever
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
Even if the devil whispers are lou… Can you alter his ego around? May you not kneel or lie or squat… Munificence alarm, Can you tell me what he looks like…
I don’t try too hard They can’t help Enough but loosen Their shacks and Jump down from their
Love growing could be as Short as a leave that kisses The sun begged to kiss not, It could be a lantern bright But not bright enough to see far,
You should see the sketch of sorro… You should see the pain written in… You should try to dig what is hidd… Can you not see how her eyes are t… When her brows flinches up and dow…
It is just Another day But with different Fish back to The same old sea.
These are the real Poets/writers The ones with glasses and Always taking pictures In black/white
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…
To the SS What do we call love? We would call love war Because our passions raw, We would call love friends,
Sometimes i feel like I have done it all But maybe its not me Its the silk that’s unwilling To cover my feet.
Life is a maze and death Is the way out.
Of one you once loved with fetish heart Of one you once cared With all you had Of one you once prayed
For life will fairly drench and We will with no option but famousl…
For you to be reading this At this exact time Is not an honor It was meant to be.
