One writes sometimes to test the limit of artistry, behold rhyme, rhythm, clarity and wordsmithing.
I’m feeling like a poet
Bosom full of gems
Imma spill with no impunity
Life fleeced sanity
Bore a boy
leaves, he’s to wrestle with no affinity
They said edge of tomorrow
Brings uncertainty like…
I don’t think humans regret the fun they didn’t have. I believe the opportunity unseized, especially the impact left undone weighs more.
Why is the window closed in the morning? Is that why I have a running nose? Does the brightness of the sun damage my eyes? …
There is a line somewhere between right and wrong. If right is black and wrong is white. Creativity is NOT gray. Or maybe it is?
But first commentary. One of my mentors blasted my last post because he has mentioned to me before that my pictures make my post difficult…
An examination of the heart of a coward.
Before we go to far and I use beautiful English to mask the truth. I’m stating categorically. I, am, THE coward. Now, it’s not so bad yet that it is ALL I see myself as. I don’t define myself by my cowardice…