12 July, 2013

Some quirky poems

raw- very raw. Penned down as thought just flow.

There aint no dance, What is a ball? I counted leaves on the drawing floor-
till the end of time, he struts,
A blank page keeps no lover apart

another one.

A quiet lap across the dam, A swim back through the tunnel. Skiing past trees in winter, Toiling hard in summer.

not very beautiful, but im lazy to polish...

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