PIECESA Poem by Rene Velez
Writers paint pictures,
paintings demand words, a circle of creation, our mother of imagination, we've seen the worst in us, the dust accumulates, never to see our face, there are no mirrors for the soul, we, insufferable, imperfect art, between hearts, vulnerable, filling empty space, young, we race.. old, we wait, in silence we communicate, an inside ache, to create, free of control, ...when every answer is no, we design the pieces... we search the pieces that makes us grow, that make us whole. © 2019 Rene Velez |
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1 Review Added on August 18, 2019 Last Updated on August 18, 2019 AuthorRene VelezNew York City, NYAboutPoetry... what else needs to be said? [email protected] more..Writing
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