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More from kakani
And Every time I look into your eyes,
Confronted by the emptiness,
Deep inside,
And that's why it hurts,
To look into your empty eyes.
Confronted by the emptiness,
Deep inside,
And that's why it hurts,
To look into your empty eyes.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 864 B
Your poetry is like a rose,
But even the most lovely prose
Like fine wine, if drunk too oft
And left in head as in the loft,
May jade one to its pleasantries
To evermore be merely tease
Of flavor once enjoyed so well
That used to make the bosom swell
But now it merely is the norm,
So perfect is your poem's form.
But even the most lovely prose
Like fine wine, if drunk too oft
And left in head as in the loft,
May jade one to its pleasantries
To evermore be merely tease
Of flavor once enjoyed so well
That used to make the bosom swell
But now it merely is the norm,
So perfect is your poem's form.
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