Warm And Rustic Woods. Poem by Luke Curcio
Warm And Rustic Woods.
Warm woods. I could chose to be anyone I want. Then why am I a monster?
Walking through this forest, not as a man, but as a animal.
In nature, there's no right and wrong, just cause and effect.
In my nature, I've done wrong, and I have nothing left.
Rustic woods. I walk through leaves. Between trees, with sunlight beams shining down.
These's woods will never do me wrong. Nor I them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 7:44:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
