(no subject)
Why remember
when memory is but a passing gesture
of courtesy
for moments fleeting
wrought with pain and anger
or tender loving smiles
leaving the heart shackled and sore
or tastefully sour
Not much of a poet i am, but i share certain truths i guess.
Let not that which existed have bearing on the existing, lest your heart fail to compromise.
when memory is but a passing gesture
of courtesy
for moments fleeting
wrought with pain and anger
or tender loving smiles
leaving the heart shackled and sore
or tastefully sour
Not much of a poet i am, but i share certain truths i guess.
Let not that which existed have bearing on the existing, lest your heart fail to compromise.