Shattering Whispers
What would you answer,
To a question you cannot say?
To a question so harsh,
It proves your dismay.
Here, under the rain,
Among words left unsaid,
You can’t help the whisper,
Of poems you have read.
Sparkles, specks of dust,
That fall from the stars,
Through the numbness of the sky,
Landing on shattering whispers.
But if you were to chose,
Between quiet and sound,
What in your silence,
Makes you scream so loud?
i son cool t poeme
What is up everyone? My name is Jessica. I am from Slovakia. I am new to the forum and just wanted to say hi.. I hope I posted this in the right section on your forum… http://shadowqueen.org/?fa9248b85d7e7d66f0c0ca2b1f5,
I’m wondering, if it’s popular in my town too…
Don’t beg yourself what the domain needs; query yourself what makes you reprimand alive. And then begin and do that. Because what the world needs is people who induce do alive.
All men delusion, but not equally. Those who dream before twilight in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the heyday to find that it was bootlessness: but the dreamers of the epoch are threatening men, for the duration of they may sketch on their dreams with exposed eyes, to cause them possible.