“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
no more, sits he, their'by Waiting.
The weight, is no more.
The burden we carry, no more. Together.
Now he doth wait, For the more part .
The part to come then, When we are no more, Separate.
But, together, again.
I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.