A weir

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  • Emotional

    A weir

    The journey of a breeze,
    only felt not seen,
    scorch of the sun,
    one can feel not hold,
    the ripples of oceans,
    spread its hold gently,

    Sometimes I wish,
    I can express,
    my inner feelings more,
    but,
    words seems inadequate,

    All you need do,
    is take a look at my face.

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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

    Tosakins’s Poems (2)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    A weir 0
    Sotto Voce 0

    Tosakins’s Friends (2)