Inside me lives this story trying to become
Unfolded upon this Rocky Road under the
Blister snow so I guess it had made me
Bitter cold too many empty souls rotted
...
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Eversince my birth a product of being hurt. A brilliant poem Laquory. Life is not a bed of roses
Because of my tragic past of people dying Fast so what happens when we become Extinct People never think as people constantly Sink under gravel and sand hitting the asphalt. painting pictures for all eternity. wonderful thought and very poetic.... you think a lot, about life and death. tragic moments and its memories. well portrayed. thank you very much. tony
it's Just stars that are left to shine as I leave My footprints upon this earth my girth Ever since my birth product of being hurt it must be the art in me painting pics of eternity. such a very nice poem. it took time for me to read and understand. thank you very much for this great work. tony
As I was reading this poem, it came to me! A connection between your poems, I find them to be rapid, telling a story like a staccato rhythm, and then it hit me! Your poems have the tempo of rap, you could rap your poems very easily! Great writing once again.10+++ Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
Hi Laquory, I can feel the pain within your words. A couple of things. Just watch out where you put capitals where they are not needed. And start and end of sentence. To make your word roll better off the tongue. Nicely done. Anna.