the poem of tomorrow and the stories of yesterday they never meet. the paths…
Illusions of life,filled with strife.
I’d like to say I’m wiseMy age suggests some wit,But when I seek the prizeThe words do not quite fit.
We often get ourselves in trouble when we get into the comparison game.We become stressed and sad because…
What do you think?
Did we do a good thing?
we poets know how to quieten the day or hold those colours before the light fades.we poet know the…