Where are you
My gypsy soul
my best friend
my heart....
I need you now
In my darkest
hour...
Please come to me.
Where are you?
I've looked for you
my entire life
Where are you?
Why can't I find
you?
Why wont you
come to me?
Please..
come to me soon
To wait another day
seems unbearable...
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Where are you | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| Words To My Lazarie | 0 | 09/25/2009 |
| A Different View | 2 | 09/25/2009 |
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