These are the poems I'm most proud of
I think they are my best. They are a mix of love, dark and anything and everything.
1 - 7 of 7
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June in Florence
when the roses blush -
Time has twisted, moulded and warped like flexed steel
Fused at a particle level it view its own demise -
Written in script by timid candle light
Words flowing vivid and satisfying like fresh cream -
She was 35 now,
a shattered, jagged mirror image, -
What is love?
Many poets have written of love. -
Childhood dreams fluttering,
as radiant and fragile as glass butterflies.
1 - 7 of 7
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