Forget the world Forget it ever existed for you And then watch one morning As the red sky slowly turns to blue For then you would know How true is the world And old her everyday design That began one day And remembered to stay Without you keeping the time
I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.
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THE HUMAN ANVIL 
Absolutely sublime 💜
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Thank you very much for all the support my friend 😊
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You are most welcome 💖
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