Poetry or something…
Poetry is beautiful, the play of words, the LIFE of it underlying. How it defines the character and the story just as how a beautiful effigy or a landscape image evokes the same, yet only describable with half-understatements.
However, I am no writer, a poet of whatever – my psyche of which has been lost when life was much simpler. Instead what you find here are those poems of whomever, those which I had considered endearing, then forgotten, then rediscovered with the same feeling of delight,as it was yesterday.
Mundane and yet still beautiful. ♥
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