Poems from yellowbat32
Poor baby, broken and torn
Your fate was decided before you were born
From your mother's lips, your death was sworn
Poor baby, because of...
A droplet of heaven scrapped off a cloud.
If only I could caress your pureness,
And your gentle way to remain unbowed,
Without changing...
The paper is my portal
And the pen, my magic.
I don't live to write,
I write to live.
Because reality can be
Too much to handle,
And the...