P.O.E.T.R.Y Poem by Paris Thulare

Love isn't a healer anymore,
The beauty of the natures refreshes me not,
Not even remedies made from exotic plans.

Music says the same thing, but Poetry never does.
Theraphy is for the weakest,
I believe in the the power of letters,

Poetry is the master compared to thee living, the undying and the non talking

Let me sail with these lines, tags and couplets
For they hold the powers to the ever untouched colunimbus nine clouds