How I wish the dead poets lived,
To see the backspace of life.
How I wish the dead poets have sung,
To chant the words that were true and never gone,
How I wish to live as a dead poet,
To yawp the reality which is hidden behind our eyes,
Though I am no poet,
Not even a master,
I can hardly deny.
If you can read my words,
And feel its meaning,
But not actually understand it's connotation,
Good.
Neither can I.
For I am a poet that can never lie.
Tara R.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
A story's thoughts
Poetry(This is/will be a collection of short poems - of sorts. They have various themes and connotations, but you should just read it for yourself and find out :) If you don't understand it, don't worry. Some of them i don't understand myself. Anyway, enj...
