English Poetry

On the coming of your memory

The thunderstorms of your memories: Quiver the ground of my heart virtually; It never set me free to live independently, From the cage, where I am living for centuries. I neither of can hide and escape: Myself from its flow ; Which is running under-mine! It all the time makes me feel very low. My soul gets writhe in the …

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I cried today

I cried today I cried today, I can’t tell you why This pain that I bare i’ll have till I die My eyes they sting, my vision is a blur Oh what I’d give to find an eternal cure At night I think how is this fair I feel I’m here only because I’m told that they care But when …

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