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How I Write

Sometimes when I roll back To read my poems there on I can’t believe how I could Write them in this horizon Sometimes when I look back To see yours so glinting face I can’t believe that once you Loved me leaving the race Yet it is not your love but hate That I appreciate truly at first For it has become inspiration Of my unending poetic thirst A spark of your loving hatred Keeps on my senses burning And the smoke from my heart Makes my thoughts churning It’s not poetry drops of smoke Which fall on to these papers And color them that all think I have some poetic tempers

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Shattered Sighs