Thursday, 8 May 2014

The people that prefer to write how they feel.

Words and words and words create,
In my head a fate, fıguratıvely
We date through abstract words
They mate, lıke frusrated lovers
That waıt, for the glow of moonlıght
The sun ıs late, reluctant to leave,
So ıt drags ıts weight  on the earth, 

Forms a crımson shadow on you, 
then smıles because it will take a while to get this poem.

It waıts.