I don't know why I write But certainly i like it The peace induced on the subconscious By just overflowing word's Clears my deepest thoughts It just feels so great I'd say it's another plane of excitement A magical wonder at discovering self And just how the subconscious Picks nightmares for Dreams
A rose is just a wild flower To someone, interest is critical As even the most beautiful poem Are just crafted word's To someone But earth with no art Is just e_h.
Everyone isn't intimidated by art, I Pity their loss, must be kinda of boring