My Poetry

My poems, if you’d call them that
smell like where true poets shat.
My words come from my tiny mind
true meaning you may never find.
I scribble my pathetic rhyme;
this sort of ode should be a crime.
But really, I write what I feel
and writing is the path to heal.

Unknown's avatar

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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