Posted in hamilpuff talks, Uncategorized

Poetry Writing

Why does it have to be the day

To write a poem and make away

Why does it have to be today

To remember such a man astray

She tries to think of something else

She tries hard and fails nontheless

She writes fast on an impulse

She sees her thoughts in bundles

She laughs at herself so loud

Her own face she could see on the ground

She writes over and over abound

She hears herself screaming with no sound

Why does it have to be

Of all the memories she wished to see

Why does it have to flee

Her creative mind filled with glee

Now all her words are of madness

Streaming on blue paper is her sadness

For regrets do come when one is mindless

And the flow of thoughts seems to be endless

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Author:

A future famous writer who elopes with adventure and lives a life of wonder. between 25 and 30, she continues to explore human realities and struggles to change the unchangeable currents of the seven seas.

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