I have written wrong or
raised a soul?
You ain't got under mistakes,
but blurred the way takes.
On the road from east to end,
paces blink beams,
just like I can not pretend
drifting deems,
and dawns.
Still so not a pause,
black out and blank frowns,
now we all applause,
in a lightning,
hiding and exposing right,
in a lasting,
raging and weaving fight,
for live,
for life.
YOU ARE READING
Tigress from the east
PoetryA poetry collection written by a Chinese girl. Biggest life goal of her: sitting in perfect balance of daylights and nights, back towards a mysterious naked tree, a cup of chai is better than coffee. Thinking, turn a being as living
