Poetry My Life I have no words to tell you, all that you mean to me, But these that follow after, May just let you see. You are my first, my last, my
Poetry Of Worlds There are worlds within me. Worlds I have almost known, And yet I am filled of them. I am built of them. Of their land and their sea, Of their
Poetry Please Tell me why, You look to me To walk with you, To take your hand, To be your hope When I lack my own.
Poetry Barren Nothing The shining white of sun blazed down, Upon that winding cobble, silent, The lonely lanes of the quiet town, Where air was thick and heat, violent. But the day was
Poetry Last Words The blind pilot of silent mouths and minds so loud, that never listen but mutter angrily. Like clouds of blood Raining tears of thought, and drought is longed for. But