A collaboration of forty-six on dreams both dreary and delightful! Enjoy!
Stories are fake, you say? Wait, that is a red herring. Wrong food.
I wrote this at 1 AM, you think I know what it's about? It's about the end. What end, you ask? I don't know. The inevitable one.
ππππππ ππ ππππππππππ
The blackened sky stayed constant through the days. The wind kicked dust up through the ravaged landscape as the remnants of a once prosperous society decayed back into the earth. From the rubble crac...
So much more was left unsaid, that I didn't know where to start.
β£β£ ππππ§π―π’ πππ§π ππ¬π‘ππππ’ β£β£
"ππ'π¬ π’π§ππ―π’ππππ₯π"
This poem stems from the inevitable passage of time, and the intensity of its speed and journey. Often, childhood memories are fainter than they once were, which reminds me of the afterglow after a su...
Somebody in there elder days never knows when they will pass away.
|Uncertainty|
Third times a charm. Hello, I found this place to outlet my poems. Please feel free to let me know what you think and follow for more.
Last year spent, thinking about the inevitable Secretly crying in the cold, damp streets of a busy city
A collaboration of forty-six on dreams both dreary and delightful! Enjoy!
Stories are fake, you say? Wait, that is a red herring. Wrong food.
I wrote this at 1 AM, you think I know what it's about? It's about the end. What end, you ask? I don't know. The inevitable one.
ππππππ ππ ππππππππππ
The blackened sky stayed constant through the days. The wind kicked dust up through the ravaged landscape as the remnants of a once prosperous society decayed back into the earth. From the rubble crac...
So much more was left unsaid, that I didn't know where to start.
β£β£ ππππ§π―π’ πππ§π ππ¬π‘ππππ’ β£β£
"ππ'π¬ π’π§ππ―π’ππππ₯π"
This poem stems from the inevitable passage of time, and the intensity of its speed and journey. Often, childhood memories are fainter than they once were, which reminds me of the afterglow after a su...
Somebody in there elder days never knows when they will pass away.
|Uncertainty|
Third times a charm. Hello, I found this place to outlet my poems. Please feel free to let me know what you think and follow for more.
Last year spent, thinking about the inevitable Secretly crying in the cold, damp streets of a busy city