Like a Painter Who paints just for painting That spends ink, just for coloring That’s how vain your words are They emanate sound Only for those who can’t hear. It’s your love As an obsolete artist, Drawing pieces of art In a lackluster notebook With numbers and letters.
Tag: Poems Poetry Morning
I love you
Just as birds fly seasonallyAlways coming back where they startedJust like them, that’s what happens to me.No matter where I amI will always come back to you.As a safe harborWhose sailor seeks refugeThere is no sea or stormMay they take me away from you. Just like the August sunHeats without measureThus, at maximum temperatureSo, that’s how…