Sunday, June 23, 2013

Grief 1 Comments

Rating: 4.8

All have seen me walked on the rose bed
Where as I walked on prickly thorn
My thought, ye born within unborn
Illusion! I warn you, vanish before red
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COMMENTS
Heather Wilkins 23 June 2013

along with the roses will always be thorns. nice write

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Wahab Abdul 23 June 2013

terific, my thought born out of unborn.. what a poet should tell more... love it

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