Poems from TawnyPoet

Back in Ninety-Seven, back when I was born America was far different; less hate and scorn Back when schools taught old fashioned, and...
The Future is not simply something that can be contained into a box or in the palm of my hand It is not even something we can see fully and...
A word... A sentence... A phrase spoken through the mouths of the lifeless Distancing themselves with the world they were borne into, left...
This little voice in my head It’s weak but is still holding on— Not many left in the world To speak up and show you how, It doesn’t matter...
Dark figures followed by dark streams In the imagination of all my dreams— Haven’t, it seems, been hear before In the Midnight Gloom décor...

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