Warm and sweet like Summer Rain, Your touch brushes against the tips of an intrinsic soul. Like the lake that…
Poetry isn’t about beautifying the words; It’s about stripping off its thick cover and appreciating the rawness.
A broken heart is usually mended in isolation. Like Bukowski said. “You get so alone at times that it just…
When the mirror saw her story; She looked tired from a distance, worn out from carrying the weight on her…
You’re like the stars in the sky I saw in my childhood twinkling, smiling down at me assuring me of…