Apr 2016
Hello to you...
To...you...hello,hello poetry.
I seek shelter in the arms of fellow writers... I travel from a far from a land of trolls and blighters who forget the gift of writing and imagination. It has become a train of insults that plods along from station to station. I seek refuse where I can just write... Write things about how I sometimes look in to the sky wondering where...wondering how? It's cold outside, my feet soaked from the puddles I walked in for miles...with these holes in my worn out shorts. So, come on...please. Why don't you invite me in?
To...you...hello,hello poetry.
I seek shelter in the arms of fellow writers... I travel from a far from a land of trolls and blighters who forget the gift of writing and imagination. It has become a train of insults that plods along from station to station. I seek refuse where I can just write... Write things about how I sometimes look in to the sky wondering where...wondering how? It's cold outside, my feet soaked from the puddles I walked in for miles...with these holes in my worn out shorts. So, come on...please. Why don't you invite me in?
