PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Your truth always happened at wrong time 
You were guilty of telling lies to death. 
Swimming all over the life’s ports, 
jumping up and down in a stinky swamp, 
one day you were caught behind the epigram 
encysted in perversity. 

Let us talk about the frosty relations 
breaking the norms. 
Who is afraid of impromptu love? 
We do not want to speak about the wasted 
years thrown on garbage. 
Every book was tossed out of the window, 
mind became hollow. 

We lit the candles with tears, 
the mist enveloped us in intimacy. 
Some of the days burned like dry wood 
and some days grave-diggers arrived.