Explore Poems GO!

>≫Stoic Passions

I grew an aversion to talk with virtual people
for their simple words in color white are too pretending
I am in search of a carve to hide myself in jet black
Where a bathing pose is not taken as vulgarity
And after rubbing my tongue against the cavity of my mouth
I do not produce same kind of monotonous tunes
The art of deception is now a known fossil,
No curiosity is roused within me
with hate or love
as it is better to be stoic than to response a false call.

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM