You wrote her story became extinct

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I live here,
And you went
You wrote her story became extinct,
And I been immortal

Slowly caught three of her delicate
fingers;
Thumb, forefinger and middle finger
By then rotated paper values ​​on those
lines,
Making trips to the world of words

Duet those words,
And on your classical dance
Sometimes down, sometimes up
If ever go wandering round
And then in a unique position to stay

Scream occasionally ‘A’ noise,
“C” is, as hot peppers consumed,
Questions of ‘Q’ dictatorship,
And his Shhh.. “S” scares,
But she did not stop writing her story;
As yet, I in you

I live here,
And you went
You wrote her story became extinct,
And I been immortal

Tranquillity, take turns thriller. 🐾

93 thoughts on “You wrote her story became extinct

  1. What a mindbending reversal of logic, or something. What a way with words. What a what are you on about? What a magic mystery of poetry. What a penetration of profoundity. What a word heard referred to sound semantics. What,,,,

    Liked by 4 people

      1. Just love your style. I love good poetry like T.S. Eliot, Ted Hughes, Dylan Thomas, and you creations seem to have an originality, vitality, wordskill and depth to put you in the same class as these classic poets. And it’s such a cute, pretty, neat, charming, prim and proper way you have with words, or something. Anyhow, I read loads of poetry here and other places, and yours stands way out from the crowd.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. If you T.S. Eliot, Ted Hughes, Dylan Thomas’s poetry is read and compared to them, it is kind of you. Because, indeed, I’m nothing in front of them. But I can definitely say that you have a good sightedness of art. And I’m thankful for your goodness. 🍁

        Liked by 1 person

      1. I am not moving from my desk. Okay!
        You teach me here, like, by commenting upon my posts. 😛
        You deserved that compliment. Sometimes I wonder how can girls be this good. I mean they have so many other things to worry about. Then why just this? 😦

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Actually I ink and pen life is explained. Life? Seriously!!! 😜 Remember that every moment is when you write something from the pen.
      What you do not hold the pen with three fingers? And what is not under the pen up or not revolves round whether the values ​​were as dancing.
      Lastly, type in pen and ink of the ink turns to look at some fraction of our hands. That’s why wrote there ,”I live here,
      And you went
      You wrote her story became extinct,
      And I been immortal.”

      I hope that you will have learned. 😁

      Liked by 1 person

      1. So you mean to say the person who writes something will go after writing(may be you meant death of that person) so you wrote-‘And you went’,then the ink is finished(there is no life for a pen without ink),so you wrote ‘You wrote her story became extinct’.so what remains immortal or forever are the words the person wrote using that pen.Hence you wrote-‘And I been immortal’.Am i even close to the meaning of your poem : P

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You have a complex way of expressing things and i have a simple way.Let us keep it that way.other wise you will get tired of explaining every poem to me : D

        Liked by 1 person

      3. since i said you will have to explain every poem to me?you write well.see here except me who commented on your poems all said beautiful 🙂 .That is what matter right?you should continue this way of poetry.Do not change it ok?

        Liked by 2 people

      1. Um, This means that peace is always converted to thrill. And When you sit alone in peace, you feel calm, there is the thrill. And can see here I am writing about things that static can not move voluntarily.

        Liked by 1 person

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