Poem #116
By VocoKool
There once lived a young soul, whom constantly reached for furious passion to find the lost eternity, To his elegant surprise the god of truth came to sure, The experience left him black and sore, melodramatic and melted, His pain for the paper mysteriously intrigued the gentle humor, It was this that felt unjustified and desolate, Soon to follow he reached the new moon, Writing glory and glorious itself, It makes perfect sense. It’s just another poem. E.J.Karlson January 8th, 2002Frustrated at this time. Written February 7th, 2002 © on Feb 06 2002 05:19 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"There once lived a young soul, whom constantly reached for furious passion to find the lost eternity, ..."