Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The door opens thanks to our own to finish the last artistic word from an artesian in the 15th century to be my only best friend having no trust in human beauty to know love will lead to disappointment To be a broken man pale as a lizard in the cold liken to a painting ready to be sold To wish not to feel to know an Ideal to find a state of mind to find the soul of mine By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
Soul Of Mine
The door opens thanks to our own to finish the last artistic word from an artesian in the 15th century to be my only best friend having no trust in human beauty to know love will lead to disappointment To be a broken man pale as a lizard in the cold liken to a painting ready to be sold To wish not to feel to know an Ideal to find a state of mind to find the soul of mine By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
christos-andreas-kourtis
Written by
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem