Where the mess of life gets a poetic voice
Violet skies be violent skies These blood streaks on this canvas of grey Are blood lines Boundary lines between the here
By Pẹ̀lúmi 3 years ago in Poets
Welcome to part of my mind. On todays episode.... The cogs start whirring and a poem starts brewing. Inspiration can truly hit anywhere so let's see what it produced this time shall we?
When I think of home I think of a place that taught me love I think of a snotty child in the arms of their mother Home is the child