Bringing you whatever you want, all the time. This is what I will look like as an old man.

My heart in a few words. My fingers traced the bridge. Of your nose, gliding. For twenty five a kilo. Of my fare to school. A peddler had lured me. And its bright yellow flesh. Before the peddler could leave.

I wrote this for my class. it should define what is poetry. i got this lines from my closet and wove them. see if the lines sound good. feel free to give comments and murderous criticisms. A second before the rot. The image of a memory,. Of a white heaven and.

For the nature of this thing we call a poem. Modes; or poems may use combin.

The aroma from my coffee. Greeted me like the song. That flowed out from your lips. Perhaps, it was years ago. When you sang them to me,. As you craved to empty your. It used to tell of your yearnings. To see the neon lights. On towering buildings and heights. Of snows cupped on bare hands. My skin with the coldness of America. Which is different from ours.

I am the representation of your love. A frozen world of memories inspired from. I bind your faraway hands. But parts of me slowly becomes vulnerable. Created through the changing world of reality. A masterpiece you once praised and liked. Is now dreary with solitude. Created by the changing world of reality. I am the representation of your love.

In fact, it is not merely a story of how a couple spent their honeymoon but it embodies social relevance that makes it more engrossing. LAST NIGHT SATAN WAS SCREAMING.

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