Tuesday, March 31

madness persues only thoses
who can escape, but the trails of an ordianry man,
may fade away away in time
but, only by his own hand,
and if then the world could be,
what all men wish to see,
will he have done his part
through hunger and emptiness of heart,
and all who no this feeling crave it
like figs to a dove,
they name it love

2 comments:

  1. Interesting poem. It has so many possible directions to go for meaning. I am sure you only had one.

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  2. Im not sure I was going in any direction, I was just writing so often what I see

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