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A free verse on someone's memories in the meadows
Poetry | Updated May 13, 2013 | Reads: 6 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
This Poem was among the first I was proud of because it had opened my eyes to poetry.
I think my through my poem, i have tried to say that all I ever write is about misery, there's happiness in my life, but I'm blind to it. And perhaps, till the last of my breaths, my poor pen would ingenously keep on writing about my pain as words would flow through my hand into it and onto the...
Spilling Hearts Ink
on December 5. Â© All rights reserved
The quill scratches parchment,
the bleeding begins.
The emotion guided hand,
conducts orchestrated verse.
The tactful artistic prose,
creates visualized panoramas.
The poetic scribe's inception,
spilling hearts ink.
Oh words oh words, Do flow from me.
Like an endless stream, In a poets dream.