 |
‘Cross the sea is an island, at least they all say,if you sit still and listen, you can actually hearthe king of said island, calling your name...
|
|
Yesterday’s sands are whipping my face -They scour my eyes and stifle my pace;Filling my lungs as I’m gasping for airForsaken by love, so ..
|
|
The sun flicks a sheen 'cross her long curly hairAnd reflects from the depths of her eyes of despairAnd projects her despair through my skin to my sou..
|
|
I'll be me
and you be you,
but chances are
we can't be two;
For I see
what you're blind to -
and chances are
I'm blind to you.
Few can se..
|
|
Life is a road
and we're all in cars
and we are all driving
not knowing how far
My car is gray
The inside is all black
and I'm towing four oth..
|
|
She was a dark-haired girl and beautiful, and he was a dark-haired man and handsome, although neither of them would have described themselves as such...
|
|
It was Friday morning and it had been three days since I’d spoken with my father when he called me, but I was working and I did not answer. He c..
|
|
Inspired by all the callousness in society, where people are more inclined to stand by and watch suffering, rather than stopping and helping, I hope t..
|
|
A sample of time is all that we're givenA blink of an eye in this placeIt slips through our fingers, and as well as we hideThe reaper continues to pac..
|
|
This is a poem I wrote for my son. It's subject to change and it may be posted here temporarily. Enjoy.
|
 first  prev 1
|
|
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This