Patter, patter, patter.
Through the song break,
I hear the clatter.
This Nirvana calms me
It puts my Soul at ease.
Gone are Kurt Cobain's ashes
Sprinkled in his late breeze.
We all leave this place.
Whether in peace or in vain.
Whether or not our questions receive an answer,
Can be a major source of pain.
Beheld, in front of me,
With my virginal eyes,
The tainted aura of suicide.
Innocence dies unwillingly,
While the some lose interest
In Life's Ride.
a great new and sweet poem ever you wrote... like it and read so many times to enjoy... well done friend shana dear..