Love
My heart throps a beat,only feeling heat.
Thoughts begin to sink, when you can only think.
Waiting for the shadow,
by the weeping willow.
Only to hear two poundering sounds.
Will the shadow arrives before midnights' dew?
Love
My heart throps a beat,In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.
Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
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Title | Comments | Submitted |
Brave? | 0 | 02/06/2010 |
Life | 0 | 02/06/2010 |
Love | 0 | 02/06/2010 |
Lurking shadows | 0 | 02/06/2010 |
Natural posions | 0 | 02/06/2010 |
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