A road splitting a sea of red and orange leaves stretches to where it curves out of reach,
And a cloud, imperious, presides
Over my charcoal path stained with gold,
A silk form in the space of fire-singed cyan.
YOU ARE READING
Not From Chicago.
ŞiirThis is a collection of my best poetry in my opinion! I hope you enjoy, whoever may paint their eyes over the letters and words I've arranged! PS-This book includes poems from "A World In Words" by yours truly. Go check out the other book, if you li...
