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What I Count

Rating: 4.5
Always bound on the way to go
Retard eyesight towards the flow

Fire, flower what's pretended to be great
Nothing but it's uglier offenders threat

Paid papers are always in due side
Even they fly as your colored kite.

All the dangling birds are full and fair
Resting grief only I count those fairly air.
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Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: feelings,grief ,love
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COMMENTS
Edward Kofi Louis 18 February 2019
Grief of love and life! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
1 0 Reply
Raidoski 05 February 2019
Tremendous
1 0 Reply

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