I don't know when is your birthday
But to be completely honest, it doesn't matter
Because foolish matters of this world appear to be meaningless, for your days of life have melt down icebergs of tears of joy and sadness that have been swept under the carpet on wich,giants dust off their reeking soles
Little do they know. The ugliness under their feet rubs off on your shoulder,
Where will I cry myself to sleep .
YOU ARE READING
Roses of Sharon
ПоэзияHow should one begin to introduce such a collection of riddled poems? Well,read following thoughts "painted in words" are cries, ideologies that demanded to be shared. Each unique in it's own way. Some a tainted with sorrows and wonders,some...
