Poetry

Lost

Rather bold this deluded soul. I think it’s lost and looks quite cold. She follows me rather close, this mystical woman of ancient ghost. I can tell by her clothes that she spent years suffering; no shoes, black nails but beautiful long dark hair. Only at night, she sits in my presence looking with a …

Crying

I’ve seen a mother cry on a recent date where her child was taken away because cost was the agenda of both their fate. Never to be seen again This wonderful interaction of life and entanglement. She felt a pain inside her body that released a chemical to make her worry. Those tears were real …

Who Am I?

I am a figure of a stature that reflects your shadow of existence. I am a person with a sense of pure calm in many situations. I can hear the end of your sentence before you have finished thinking about igniting the verbal connection between mind and spine. I can read your body language and …