Taken Poem by Melissa Nikolova
Taken
We take.
We take, and we take, and we take…
There’s no longer any creativity left in the world.
It sits there with a clandestine plan, hiding all of its secrets,
In the deepest recesses of the world.
Otherwise,
If it didn’t,
We’d definitely take them.
So I sit here, a pencil in hand,
Or a keyboard in front of me,
And I drain it dry.
The world is dying,
And I’m plagiarizing its agony.
wow this is cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool. i like the beginning it grabs my attention
wow this is cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool. i like the beginning it grabs my attention
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 2:03:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
.......this almost made me cry. I was having this conversation with somebody the other night on the phone, and we were talking about some of the things you are expressing in your poem. And it's just so beautiful. I'm moved...