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Description
Poetry for me is
A man in love, art in the museum
Asking a young girl not to daydream, but she dreams anyway
I read in the old books that the very existence of human is an illusion, let it be
So, I have built sandcastles, told my mother that I have counted all the stars,
Planted rose-bush seeds in winter and saved it for spring
I believe people are good and evil lives undercover
And all that is love
I will tell you about how my love is eternal, how all my dreams came true
How magic is for real,
I promise my poetry is not a song
You must give me your time, both of us need to talk
TRULY MADLY DEEPLY.
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Poetry for me is
A man in love, art in the museum
Asking a young girl not to daydream, but she dreams anyway
I read in the old books that the very existence of human is an illusion, let it be
So, I have built sandcastles, told my mother that I have counted all the stars,
Planted rose-bush seeds in winter and saved it for spring
I believe people are good and evil lives undercover
And all that is love
I will tell you about how my love is eternal, how all my dreams came true
How magic is for real,
I promise my poetry is not a song
You must give me your time, both of us need to talk
TRULY MADLY DEEPLY.
Reviews