Poets are unhappy people, no matter how high their soul, they are still covered in tears.
Poet is a joy of excitement and pain and awe, with a little dictionary.
The poet is an unconquerent king, who sits in the ashes of his palace and tries to build a delusion of the ashes.
Poets are birds that carry wonders. He ran away from the heavenly kingdom and then arrived in this world to sing as brightly as he waved. If we do not understand it with love in the heart, he will re-flap his wings and fly back to his native land.
Good post
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