Why Poetry?
A poem about poems
Nov 4 · 2 min read
I look at him engrossed once in a while,
thinking deeply and not wanting to converse,
not sure if he’s sad or depressed or just art,
as I do not intend to disturb his creative heart
He never gave up, it’s ten years, the kind of love
I have always wanted for myself, but I blush every
single time he moves from…


