The poetry exists in ignorance of my musings.
It clings to the crevices of life
in the nooks of idle minds and stolen glances of would-be lovers.
It does not care if I write,
though, I know that I must.
Original poetry, short stories, and other bits.
The poetry exists in ignorance of my musings.
It clings to the crevices of life
in the nooks of idle minds and stolen glances of would-be lovers.
It does not care if I write,
though, I know that I must.