Here we gather, knights of the square tables;
in a quaint coffee shop at the wake of morning.
We fathom the unfathomable like its our duty
discussing our distraught times in suits and ties.
Coffee breathes pondering what's right and wrong
Healing the wounds of the wars before us
and we arm ourselves for the days to come
YOU ARE READING
The Neo-Bipolar
PoésieIm actually terrified to share this stuff with you all. I struggle with a lot of demons and really just need the support and superficial attention that I lack. This is continued poetry from bipolar poems, just a new me, some newer thoughts, feelings...
