Writing is my passion, poetry is my soul, The words on the page are my very heart.
I sit here at my writing desk, A cigar burning in the ashtray, Whiskey half full in my glass, And I cant help but stare at the mess I've made.
By stephen jones3 years ago in Poets
We met it seems, So long ago, As if in dreams, Though we both know, How long it has really been. When we met, We made our mark,