PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Eating a suicide tree's fruit 
searching for the answers. 

When I am me without you; 
poetry meets an accident. 

I stand on the shifting sands, 
asking each stone, where 
was my home? 

In core of your earth, I was 
the centrex with no message. 

The white paper and black dots― 
doors had become jealous. 

No light falls, on the prayer book. 
I apologize for my ignorance.