What is down can not be up.
What the right can not be left.
Heck of a Hell will not be as much to be in Heaven.
Its only you when you see my eye,
I see none but my own butterfly.
Flies not into or out of, yet its need inside anymore.
It goes to your nose,
kissing your cheek,
flies to your ears and back some more.
The staring contest begin as you move your face away,
I know I irritate you,
annoys the day out of you,
Just to know I have placed my day,
you say, "good morning".
About the Creator
Poet’s Day (April 21)
Poetry… We hear the term bandied about all the time, and there isn’t a one of us that avoided writing some in our younger days. Whether that poetry was written by the dictate of our instructors in school, or driven by hormone-fueled teenage angst, there was a portfolio of our work available to embarrass or edify us. Poetry Day honors this art, and below, we will tell you everything you need to know about it.
By Mai Sophiaabout 11 hours ago in Poets
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