poetic in the sense that what you have is genetic
To bake requires variety, harmony that may not sound
but haven't you learnt, who made what is around? I don't know by belief, maybe the best way to create relief, is the problem.
I love the solution of individual collectivness
but who am i?
Emotionaly craving, dependent, selfish,that's you they said.
but now they are Lost within mirrors of smoke
its one cloud but you see many
so everything starts at the beginning but no one appreciatea the penny.
few versus many.
men can create but they were created
Numbers Don't End
Josh Gubbay
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 11/02/2019
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Poem topics: I love you, cloud, lost, selfish, sense, harmony, problem, relief, individual, belief, sound, penny, love, create, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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