|
This poem speaks nothing of love. This poem speaks nothing of hate. This poem is me. This poem is the purity of life. This poem is the innocence of childhood, and the hatred of oldness. This poem is who I am. This poem looks into my mind, and picks out only giddiness. It doesn’t touch the cruelness that I have done, nor the love that I have shared. And for the feelings that I have expressed, this poem is not of the anarchy ways. This poem is not of the loves I have. This poem is not my emotions. This poem is not my feelings. This poem is me. My cup runs empty. It seems funny, When you take everything away, It’s still about me, Thats about it. . . - Josh Wilson |