There once was a verse, soft and free
Whispered wild like the wind through a tree ‘I’m the poem,’ I say …
‘Not the poet today ….
For the words are the ones shaping me.’
There once was a verse, soft and free
Whispered wild like the wind through a tree ‘I’m the poem,’ I say …
‘Not the poet today ….
For the words are the ones shaping me.’