Tear stained scars remain a reminder of the time,
The rivers ran dead from the emotions of where they were fed,
A history of what once was in a time called yesterday,
A personnel wake held at the death of a romance,
Only memories are left,
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The Flow of The Letters
As dreams were captured on reams , Wishes written with an emotional hand, As the flow of letters formed the words, Acting as the hands of t...
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To write a thousand words, How one feels, But cannot find those eyes, Who would read, A message unread, For a thousand years, Maybe in anoth... -
Sat on a path, At the dawn of the day, Cross roads in sight, Thinking which way, To the left or to the right, Or straight ahead towards ton... -
A Robin flew to a tree on my path, This was fate , It was meant to be, He sang a song, In his merry way, Only a few will understand his wor...
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