May 2016
It is the last day of May,
Summer's now in full swing
and I've come to realize many things.
I think, for once, I'd rather leave them
unwritten. There's little I can say
now that'll reconcile memory.
Summer's now in full swing
and I've come to realize many things.
I think, for once, I'd rather leave them
unwritten. There's little I can say
now that'll reconcile memory.
Poetry is freedom in expression, a lack of which is in-keeping with the mood I am. What's this then? Where silence says more than a poem.
Refusing to lend oneself to expression instead affirms an equal and opposite impression. Oh memory, once again, playing games with me.
Being, in
Refusing to lend oneself to expression instead affirms an equal and opposite impression. Oh memory, once again, playing games with me.
Being, in
