Author's e-books - Poem. Page - 1
This is a short Haiku poem about love. It's simple and to the point about how love should be. So just take a moment to read my poem and keep my words in mind as you go on your journey to find love.
Feelings of a defeated woman who can't fight nomore. Who's done with the battle. You win she loses her mind just to get back her dignity! When women are at their lowest of low in life this poem is for you to read to relieve your heart and struggles. Be a peace to your broken body.
It is the first poem that I've written . I wrote it when I was still in high school . I was able to write this poem because of the guy I admired so much :DD
My own thoughts about trust turned into a poem. I wrote this book to express how I feel and think about what trust is.
This poem was inspired by an intoxicating relationship than nearly drove me to irrationality. In my blindness, I loved this man, but my soul was crying out in pain, of which oozed through in this poem. Without my knoweldge, my pen had created a sonnet, in perfect rhythm and meter. Form was begging to return, and though it took months to acknowledge it, form was the victor.
This is a short Haiku poem about love. It's simple and to the point about how love should be. So just take a moment to read my poem and keep my words in mind as you go on your journey to find love.
Feelings of a defeated woman who can't fight nomore. Who's done with the battle. You win she loses her mind just to get back her dignity! When women are at their lowest of low in life this poem is for you to read to relieve your heart and struggles. Be a peace to your broken body.
It is the first poem that I've written . I wrote it when I was still in high school . I was able to write this poem because of the guy I admired so much :DD
My own thoughts about trust turned into a poem. I wrote this book to express how I feel and think about what trust is.
This poem was inspired by an intoxicating relationship than nearly drove me to irrationality. In my blindness, I loved this man, but my soul was crying out in pain, of which oozed through in this poem. Without my knoweldge, my pen had created a sonnet, in perfect rhythm and meter. Form was begging to return, and though it took months to acknowledge it, form was the victor.