……God; I can’t write from here, I need experience not intensive care, even if it’s through the eyes and body of someone elsewhere, I dare not stare into their mirrors, but I do care, their fears and anxieties will be my tools to write jewels, I’ll even embody fools, but my writings won’t be for kids in grade schools, they’re designed to expose the thief in their mirrors, and remove their lying eyes so they can see clearer.
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Author:
EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 6th, 2024 21:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments1
That's the kind of poetry I like - truth and clarity. Well put.
It’s not truth if it’s pending on a being or reality you don’t believe…
Precicely - I've just written "An Old Saw' with much the same conclusion.
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