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<materialistic joy>
but flowers, he said;
flowers stand
beautiful and tall,
but flowers, she said;
flowers also
wilt and fall,
they wither and die,
as time passes by,
and no one can tell,
how long since they
fell.
but rocks, she said;
rocks last forever,
but rocks, he said;
rocks are beautiful
never,
no, she said,
they run fascinating
lines,
with enough pressure,
they begin to
shine.
sc.
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YOU ARE READING
Hot Water & Honey
Poetrya collection of poems from my innermost thoughts or as i would like to call it, my hot water and honey! don't forget to vote comment and like!! this is for you if you're constantly fighting a war in your head but never able to say anything about it...
