Genre - Poetry. You are on the page - 387
Remember in troubled times, God has sent someone to watch over you. But have you ever wondered what your guardian angel goes through when he comes to your aid?
This is not Eliot. There are times when it isnβt even Edward Lear (though John Donne does make a cameo appearance). What it is is very Curateβs Egg. But if you can manage to eat your way around the less palatable bits (and thereby avoid a possibly fatal case of brain-poisoning) you may find a mouthful or two that will linger in the memory for a whileβand perhaps even rearrange your mental furniture by a few inches...
Poetry - Juvenile poem about a naughty duck.
"the walls close in as cold air touches my skin I'm tired of the lies trying to pretend that I'm not dying I fake a smile luckily they don't care enough to dial into my real emotions they couldn't bare the truth if only they tried pealing through my layers to see the real me then maybe they would finally love me"
When two hearts speak, beautiful words are spoken.