Within the castle of true colours I spent.A Poem by andrew mitchell
The poet draws blood
ending the story, the stanza is dead. Long live the king who swings on the smile of his lovely lady. Endangered thoughts build a wall from itself as knowledge slips into a sinkhole, a moat; the hourglass of time stagnates, as the turning of the tides brings change to a stop. I saw the princess and a pumpkin.
© 2020 andrew mitchell
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2 Reviews Added on August 9, 2020 Last Updated on August 9, 2020 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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