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“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Ernest Hemingway)

The Best Poem Of orchid wreath

Pen Memory

For arrogant personalities
Greetings and regards
My speech is directed to the East man
It is not enough that here women are putting on black daily
With smiles on their faces
Moderating...Languishing under the umbrella of religion
The violation of squeamishness femininity
Do you care what she really thinks! ! !
Do you care what she really needs! ! !
Do you know what she really FEELS! ! !
The words provoke me to write the craziest lines that may cause my death
Inside the corridors of my vibrant memory
Something here is exciting and yet idiotic
This past of tragic stories...
Like a relationship between an old man and a virgin feather
Inside the ink sits without being touched before by any writers hands
All of the above is starting to be written only …
Starting to be ready to put on my silent coat
Since my silence started
I sang between my defeats and victories
I'll never be in any moment a Saint
I'll never be a Grecian god
I'll never be a Babylonian legend
I am just an old archaeological status
Crusher...
Broken...
Destroyed...
From top to bottom
Trying to restore myself through words
I no longer care about
The seriousness of the situation
Some words are just lost from my vocabulary:
Yes
Realized
I know
You will still be yourself as an East man
Despite all the womens noses
I am still only a thing in your residual phrase
With no regrets

Orchid Wreath

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