Me and my poems
It seems like my poems
Are my deerest friends
They are the places
Where my tired soul lands
I write up my mind
And create the lines
Some of them are kind
Others not so nice
Fighting with the time
And it’s strong impact
I don’t see a crime
In exaggerating facts
Whatever I write and create
Reflects me and my inner self
With each story I write up my fate
I guess writing is a fate itself
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