The past, is the past.
Nothing stays the same.
Only so long things can last.
And then will come the change.
People come and go,
Many different names.
But no matter how many show,
One thing, stays the same.
Encouragement and praise,
The seeds, from which words grow.
So start encouraging today,
On someone's story, poetry or prose
We are the writers of now,
But who will be the next ?
Let's help the kittens out,
To grow some awesome texts.
Stablishβ’
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Twenty five year old male from Sudbury, Suffolk, England. I write poetry, quotes, songs and the rare story. Thanks to all who follow, like or re-post xxx
I thought this place was fun?!.
We are the many who count as a few,. Who stay on the track when our lives go askew,. We are the writers, our weapon's the tongue,. We are the thousands that count as the one,.
Inspiration. Strikes. In the dead of the. Night,. Ungodly hours,. Or whilst I'm in. The shower,. My brain confused,. With lyrical. Abuse,. A to Z of verse. Put it together. Make words converse,.
Inspiration, a Small word, but it can be so Very hard to find.
A place of new, A place of old, A place of secrets, Told and untold. A blank white room, Empty, clear, You can forget- Everything here.
A thank you I owe to you all, For reposting my poems Upon the wall. Too many to thank One by one. I would be here until Kingdom come. So this call goes out To those who care.
To the poet words are more akin to blood, For without them he cannot become the man he should.
I remember. A once upon a time. That ended happily. And in rhyme. I recall. The Opussian Tea Party. A true joy. For us all, so artsy. I'm always aware. Of your wondrous talents. The Opussian world.
Aww this is lovely and you were one of the first people to like my posts so thank you for that encouragement ππββπ»π»β€
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