Tag Archives: Poem


Presence is a fickle thing, We can doubt and prod our existence, We can feel like currency, We can feel like our soul is but a thread, And the scissors are in hands of everyone but you. The hope can … Continue reading

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the haze

while the sun does enough to get me out of a reluctantly wonderful state… a morning shower will always be the best cycle for my senses the steam releases me from lands unknown, and I creep towards obvious light suddenly … Continue reading

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Two Birds.

two young birds, sat chatingly on a wire. one boy,one girl. and they were, best of friends. the boy, very much like a bird, jerked his head, back and forth, at any distraction. the girl, like an aged woman, gazed … Continue reading

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