POSTCARD TO A POET
I don't want to write it down.
I don't want to give those thoughts life form
cause once you put them down on that soft pillow of memory….
Once you do that,
It becomes truth!
The one that haunts you....
The one that comes in your dreams
The truth that never knew lie-if.
You become its slave,
You share your lunch with it.
You just dream about that moment trapped on paper
that moment you decided
to give your thoughts wings to eternity.
Your words -
your destiny,
yet even sworn enemy.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
POSTCARD TO A POET
I don't want to write it down.
I don't want to give those thoughts life form
cause once you put them down on that soft pillow of memory….
Once you do that,
It becomes truth!
The one that haunts you....
The one that comes in your dreams
The truth that never knew lie-if.
You become its slave,
You share your lunch with it.
You just dream about that moment trapped on paper
that moment you decided
to give your thoughts wings to eternity.
Your words -
your destiny,
yet even sworn enemy.
