Poetry is a consumming fire
The only way to deal with it is to write
Poetry is a consumming fire
It burns in my heart and soul
Pouring out my emotional turmoil
To write them down upon the page
Goodnight
Roses are red Violets are blue It's been a long day Time to snooze Blanket wrapped warm Soft pillow beneath your head Holding a stuf...
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They were fools to interrupt this day My day Where I was to be wed to the man I love Did they not think I would be armed Did they not thin... -
Have an idea Have a plan The wheels in your mind turning and churning Work with your idea Turn it into something fantastic
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