No more than the nothingness
Poetry: No End (To The Endless Days)
Now it is poetry time
By myself, with my music
With the wood-burner’s warm glow
With my, slowly-going-cold tea.
Yes we did
Yes we didn’t
Yes we walked
But yet we did not walk free.
Now it is poetry time
By myself, with my music
With the wood-burner’s warm glow
With my, slowly-going-cold tea.
Yes we did
Yes we didn’t
Yes we walked
But yet we did not walk free.
words often hidden from ones inner self