The words formed a pile –
rumors, lies, acquisitions…
It wasn’t quiet in a while –
Just awful conditions.
The pride may as well froth,
To its heart content.
It is shaken and wroth,
But no one will repent.
There’ll be no “sorrys”
No empty explanations.
Let’s postpone the worries,
And delete the foundations.
Here's To Express.. :)
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The official bulletin of the artist IMPREINT created to repost excerpts from 'En plein air'.
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Sailing through emotions, letting them flow out as words, I'm charting the waters of life and writing as I venture.
Aren't songs of grief lullabies to the lost?
A Healthy Lifestyle
Wel that end will be the start of a new beginning. Great poem👌
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Thank yo. Yes, I hope so 🙂
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You’re welcome 🙂
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Nice.
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Thank you 🙂
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