Who says Words are dead?
When there is nothing left to be said.
Every stroke, every letter, there is a beat.
Sit down and feel it.
I truly hope I can write those long poems. . .
Love Poem by Mary Fons
Who says Words are dead?
When there is nothing left to be said.
Every stroke, every letter, there is a beat.
Sit down and feel it.
I truly hope I can write those long poems. . .
Wow! ;)
Thanks for dropping by @feedingfranzy. :)
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Glad to be here! :)
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