Jan 2015
pain strikes me as something beautiful
that hides in the guise of thorns
and thickets, and gnaws deep inside
of us
only to bring out the quintessence of
being alive, being unstoppable
in the face of suffering
that hides in the guise of thorns
and thickets, and gnaws deep inside
of us
only to bring out the quintessence of
being alive, being unstoppable
in the face of suffering
First of many poems! Like Henri Rousseau I do this out of sheer love of the art no matter my inexperience. Tonight is a night of pain and hence the poem. I don't know how poems are usually laid out, to hell with structure and rules. If you can write it, then write it haha
