;✍🏻
Aught how much I desire
It is just my w o r d s
you a d m i r e
My w o r k s that allure
-Oh! must forage for cure
Paths are against for we're
not d e s t i n e d to meet
So we couldn't be an art
Couldn't concatenate
what's in our H e a r t
;pensoul
BINABASA MO ANG
LIFE
Poetry(ON-GOING) Thoughts converted into words, had found it's home. A pieces compiled for it could at least touch everyone's heart. A book of life consist of short poems works by author's frisky mind. --- Let my ink be the fuel, pictures in your mind be...
