You are the magic of the pen, / the confessions of a soul broken and mended alike, / a hand to hold, / company to keep, / a precious bond that cannot be broken, you are- / Real to me.
You are the magic of the pen, / the confessions of a soul broken and mended alike, / a hand to hold, / company to keep, / a precious bond that cannot be broken, you are- / Real to me.
Every year, one more poem in free verse— / Still frames of silent tears and raucous nights / Snapshots documenting my best and worst / An artist’s impression of maturity and moonlight
Every year, one more poem in free verse— / Still frames of silent tears and raucous nights / Snapshots documenting my best and worst / An artist’s impression of maturity and moonlight