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YOU ARE WARNED This is poetry doesn't kill For those who find right to write Who found letters from the bottom of the pond of our thoughts Let us be connected United by our poems Though we are far beyond our measures yet we are glued together
IT IS ME I weild the power of my thumb tips Found weakness on my present profession Professing the bright call to write The pen that never stops My Emotions are motions carried by my ink Endless, timeless and boundless The paper the holds all of my thoughts My heart who keeps records of my nerves Skinny as stick, tall as a tree, thoughts are limitless
IT IS YOU Hoping that you are the wind Can fly because of your words Can jump high from the cliff of your imaginations Without pressure cause your assured with your passion Pressing onwards like a crazy typewriter Clingy till the end of your last sentences
If you find we are the same, hit me and spill your beans through my dms
--end
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- 1 year ago
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