Poetry is something that just comes to you - only in certain states of minds. This was one such product.
Tag: Creative
Living, in Death
The war was bloody, to say the least. As the tanks went through the remains of our home, I shed – “No, no,” he said in exasperation, “That sounds so artificial. It’s not coming from the heart.” He tried again. I cowered beneath our bed. No. It wasn’t our bed anymore. She… she wasn’t there… Continue reading Living, in Death