My friend has been asking me to showcase her poetry for a while now, so here it goes. Hope you enjoy.
Time is an illusion that rapidly disintegrates we are but micro specs on this combusting ball of fire. Where poverty reaps the land nonstop, it eludes us. Me, you, time are cross lovers of the past. It could never be a past without the future. I say this to say, be my time lapse where flowers grow in the midnight. Marlo Kisses