Like dreaming in black and white, with no sound
or being in a place with no light, underground,
came the memory of years gone, and the passing,
so I tried to stop the spawn, and the classing,
...
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falling is not an irreversible things. good write. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
Ah! Now there is a good poem, the thought behind it and the construction shows promise. Read mine - On The Horns of The Moon - Adeline