Good
I tore my notebook,
I have kept for fears,
On the shelf of safe years,
For a word or a look,
To be registered,
Beneath a title born free,
Chastely says,†I love theeâ€,
But the pages followed
Remained empty,
Yellowy brown,
eroded with a frown
of hostile enmity,
with my pen and heart,
my passion, hand and eyes,
and cripples colorful lives,
And breeds the cruelest unsight,
So cold no dreams shine in me,
And words in misery freeze,
In spirit in despair at ease,
Reflecting impact of thee.
~ Latest
Good
Lovely Poem ..
Keep it up mate
I Am Not The Jealous Type
Whats Mine Is Mine End Of Story ♥♥