I pulled out a poetry book,
One with flowers on the cover,
I hoped for inspiration,
My thirst unquenchable,
Your shadows not even present,
And still nothing came,
So I tried to concede to the writer.
made a deal with a friend to publish poems
I pulled out a poetry book,
One with flowers on the cover,
I hoped for inspiration,
My thirst unquenchable,
Your shadows not even present,
And still nothing came,
So I tried to concede to the writer.