Is there a beginning to the poetry I write? I had these thoughts inside; I just never shared. Is there an end to the poetry I write? When my eyes no longer see the beauty...and ugly hate of this world, when I no longer dream of better ways or better days, and when my heart stops wanting...then the poetry will end. Until then, be expecting another 100 poems on tortured love, one-shot imaginations, a description of the little things in everyday life, and a honest confession of what bothers my mind.
Most of this is sad, any TW will be at the start of them
I'm a 17 y/o (Started this when I was 15) just wanting to share some of my poetry with people other than my friends :]
(Also feel free to comment any tips and how I could improve on my writing!)