Suffered Poetry
In the enchanted notebook,
I carved the flowery poem
and between soft words
I offered myself quite fearless...
How I confessed without knowing
that I didn't even know myself,
every confession almost veiled,
my soul trembled...
The paper almost on fire
asking for a break told me,
don't hurt me with words,
Don't make me suffer agony...
But I, insane poet,
I didn't stop with my
poetry...!
Copyright © Alkas Poetry | Year Posted 2022
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