Why have you forsaken yourself and succumbed to the banality that merely brushes the edges of this existence?
The core is such a beautiful thing, why be scared of a centre to your whole being? Yet you view it like an Apple whose seeds contain arsenic.
Alas my love we write our own stories, yet to continually yearn for an end, is to write your name on water that is all too soon erased by the wind.
- Author: Emile Dubois ( Offline)
- Published: April 5th, 2018 14:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.