Valley of Flowers

A collection of my raw thoughts and feelings processed into poems written in English.

Every poem is a flower that blooms to it's fullest. There will be weeds that might overgrow it. However, the flowers will remain the same with it's beauty.

The poems vary from one another. There are flowers so beautiful yet filled with thorns, making it impossible even touch them. Some are small and delicate, pretty flowers that shouldn't be underestimated. Despite their appearance, other flowers tend to poison, do they not?

They say that poems are the windows to the poet's soul and mind. If that's the case, why am I so clueless of my own?