I love writing and reading poems, not so much the classics these days but knew fresh stuff I find that exciting. New styles and new ideas. Some people paint, or write books or do crafts to get the inside out, me I do poetry and read the inside of folk I love to write fun and nature poems the best though.
“What is it that makes you flabbergasted, my dear mortal? This isn’t for the first time you’ve been throttled by the fear of demise” says the death angel while ripping apart my bones. “Why am I still remain, to you,
What would happen on the day When death tinkers in your life This thought might recoil once It turns a ‘men’ into ‘corpse’ I soliloquy kith will pretending of regret by flowing false tears Several examine you by discussing your
I see a coincidence, A special coincidence: A center of a circle, An infinitely meeting scale That is visibly invisible And a distance too nearby to reach And a working of an unseen gyre that lets us in And puts