The books of memories
Fresh pages, mean new starts,
Rise from the dead, they're fire arms.
Ne'er tear a memory, in a state of an infirmary,
Coz that's what lives, in our heart's armoury.
Tear them and they shall cry,
Fall into pieces, they'll surely die.
But ageing doesn't mean the end,
It's too far, too difficult to bend,
The rules of life, of truth and the wise.
Many broken pieces make a divine vase,
The souls of the beautiful flowers, it shall caress.
But torn pages shan't make a book,
Want lovely whites and the perfect looks
YOU ARE READING
Whirl Of Thoughts
PoetryThis is a collection of my poems. My first on wattapad. Hope everyone likes them. They are not very great.... But good to read... Titled," Whirl Of Thoughts". Please vote, share and comment. Make my day, Please! This beautiful cover is made by@femi...
