Care not she but only of life not of war or struggles of people whining care not she of sorrow or strife she had finished with angelic crying of the tantrum child wanting all of the stamping of feet and fist clenching and hitting the dented wall of names and words not mentioning care not she nor... Sign in to see full entry.
tales from the murky splurge:
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About this Blog
Poetry is about expression of thought. Sometimes the best work is the kind of stuff that just leaps up from within our soul. I write a lot about the murky splurge...This defines a place where we are are given the freedom to bare our souls in word but understand it is between the lines where most truth resides, In a world which has an abundance of love for all to share there is a whirlwind stirring. these words come out of a storm, but reader of my blog, please see although we write about many things, we may just mean another...well that is what the villagers said..... have fun.
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