To the garden of forgotten dreams,
Blossoming still subconsciously.
Before, their colors shined warmth of becoming real.
Now, they are a dimness.
A City of Ember underground,
In the pit of darkness and barely hanging around.
But there is still hope,
For even Forget-Me-Nots grow best in the dark and drowned places.
-JMM
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Life-Sized Poetry
PoetryThis is a compilation of any and all of my poetry. Some are based on personal events whilst others are just thoughtful insights that I put in stanzas. There is no formal style I use. Basically, I let my fingers rest on the keyboard and let them fly...
