It all burns
Slowly
We have set it on fire ourselves
And we will burn too
It’ll catch up to us
Ashes
Will fill the lungs
Of the ones left
After the blaze
This world of ours
It’s on fire
Burning
Slowly
And everyone is too busy
Watching their screens
To notice the smoke.
-C.H.
Why is it that we are so eager to appreciate the beauty of a: flower, or a waterfall, or the stars, or a sunset; but we are hardly ever that open to seeing the beauty in each other? Why is that, dear
“A simple request” she says, “Speak to me in poem, intrigue my mind with your words, genuine and authentic, for your words become actions, are the framework of our relationship, and have the power to
There’s a camera on top of the building Next to this one And it points Right at me I lift up my shirt And flash it my hairy nipple Then I give it the finger It moves with me Turning as I walk away fro
