'Let me write the instance confronting the death and I shall be the happiest man leaving', that's how I feel about writing.And about the Poetry; " His poetry, like your floating clouds of feeling, are but the blue drops of raining thought. To heal those pains of convention and fear; Nothing but the truth and nature to share."
When a rose turns old petals fall but the rose bud remains and its beauty and fragrance leaves a lasting impression in our minds Sure the beauty and fragrance of a rose lasts but briefly but the rose garden goes
I am your child,yet you choose to ignore that fact I am your flesh the fruit that proved other trees that said you can not bear wrong. I shamed your enemies Wrapped their faces in shame with believe that you’re
You ask if I believe in God. I think He’s left us all alone like sweaty children in a mall, searching for our mothers. But one glance at your tenderly upturned face, I can only breathe of white angels, gossamer