Poems from RoyceSullivan
The chipped green walls
Is my grass
The wooden chair and desk
Are my neighbors
The flickering lamplight
Is my sun
The stain of computer...
The air here tastes
Like honey and lime
A single welcomed hand
Made itself a home
On her cheek
The color of rain drops
And roses
They...
It would seem
That people look for love
The same way you'd get lost
In an empty hallway
Just turn the corner
And there it is
Whereas I...
The phrase, “culture and tradition are the enemies of evolution” is the modern artists excuse to erase what had been before, and impose...
Even if all the contents
Confined within
The cage of one's soul
Were to spill
Could we understand them?
Such a question
In such a queer...