Words escape me,
Wisdom fails me.
Love is a fancy;
Or so they tell me.
Many long for Truth but,
Not enough want the Truth.
Words of love a distant song,
A joyous love; to right this wrong.
I'm broken, I freely admit
But my eyes are no longer clouded by naivete kiss.
Poetry are the songs of the heart,
Poetry is where love first starts.
Can you feel my pain?
On this ink stained page?
Do you see my Solitude,
In each dotted line?
Do you think I'll recover,
With each passing rhyme?
Baby love leave that to time
YOU ARE READING
Book Of Reux
PoesiaA collection of poems, these are the words and thoughts trapped in my head, the darkness, pain, light and dread. Humans are after all open books
