Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Any time I think of it, almost every day, I think of it. I am like you, I do not like you. I think you think I do not exist. I do. So do you, and that is the only why. I think you, so I am, and this is it. This is it. The state of being left be the realm of all possibility, where no impossible thing is posed to **** all our hopes with common fear of death.
0
Oct 11, 2023
Oct 11, 2023 at 2:03 PM UTC
In the ruliad appearing possible
Any time I think of it, almost every day, I think of it. I am like you, I do not like you. I think you think I do not exist. I do. So do you, and that is the only why. I think you, so I am, and this is it. This is it. The state of being left be the realm of all possibility, where no impossible thing is posed to **** all our hopes with common fear of death.
Spir'tual effort to drift away...
kenpepiton
Written by
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Oct 11, 2023
Oct 11, 2023 at 2:03 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem