Blank Pages

Blank Pages

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Apr 10, 2015
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Poetry
This is my life. I’m an author and a poet. I love blank pages. I destroy their blankness. Yeah, yeah, we always kill the thing we love. Nonsense. It’s not like that. This book is a long riff. It wanders in and out of poetry, puns self-indulgently, shifts in and out of borrowed and invented voices, and is tricky enough that, on re-reading it, I find poems myself I no longer understand. My poems focus on life.
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fallinginlove
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The world of scars, Of dread and shards, Of broken dreams and hearts, Form poetry so dark. Mysterious ways of the world, Humans cruelty, and loss, Will this ever stop? Will the pain and voidness go on? Hatred, anger, guilt, and pain, Bring voices whispering ruination to minds, Only the people who saw through those blinds, Will understand these poems lines. [These are my collection of poetries about the dark side of life. None of these poems are allowed to be copied without my permission. Read with caution.] By: N. I. Black

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