Tag poem

The Dean’s Office

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

. There in the front worked an angel so rare With pouting red lips and skin velvet cream The sunbeams dance through her long golden hair At night, she sings in my electric dreams . I can see it all,…

Wistful

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

It is the home you made but can no longer enter It is the lover that you can no longer kiss It is the pain that you cannot undo It is the scar that you cannot erase It is the…

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