Poetry

is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.


William Wordsworth

30

And I lived another year A chance that’s always considered rare Must I carry on, following my bliss? Or be useful and inspire others, at least

Pride

Up in the clouds you go Leaving all behind besides your ego How exalted you feel Your perception escapes whatโ€™s real

Keyboard Warriors

Anyone who stands against them has insanity They lost their path to heroism in the real world So in the digital space, a bold image they mold

Youth

The road ahead is unsmooth Memories you gather now can soothe Youโ€™ll soon be asked to play less So this time, soak yourself in bliss

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