Spilt Milk and GravesA Poem by ArchiaHow many times must a man resent his losses? And cry over the milk that has split, at the bottom of his grave? When will the princess become a mockery of girls? And the knight, the man that has all the true love? When this happens, the world will be thrown into its torrent; words and words and syllables, on the tips of each tongue. It is when the man with no tongue will laugh, and be happy that eyes must do the talking. Then a man can count his losses, and a princess will be a mockery. It is then that graves will smile, and knights will have no love. But no fear must be felt, by whom is fearful. Only those that do not know will shake. because only those that do not know, won’t realise, a princess is just a girl, and a grave is just a block of earth. But no one will realise that spilt milk, is just a puddle. © 2013 ArchiaAuthor's Note
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Added on October 9, 2012Last Updated on January 6, 2013 AuthorArchiaAboutReally, I'm just one of you. Come in, sit down, grab a cup of tea and enjoy a good read (now that may be a questionable statement). If there's anything in any of my stories that you want to be exp.. more..Writing
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