Get your pens!
We run to the streets
The artists who paint with words
Our alloys we melt
We pour into moulds
Blacksmith forging
Sentences.
With our hammers we build
To a thousand feet high
Paragraphs
So eagerly formed.
With us we bring seeds
Farming 26 letters
Planting tales wherever we go.
YOU ARE READING
Aged Words
PoetryA collection of old poems from two years ago. Some hateful, distrusting, paranoid, and perhaps not entirely sane. Others apathetic and sentimental. (Cover picture is not mine. I just added text and filters. Credit to whoever owns it.)
