“Tinge…” [poetry]

See, it’s just the flicker of the windows,
The shadow of a stretching bus,
The story shared among the heroes,
And sheer serenity for us.

Forgotten books, unpublished authors,
Some tired looks of hefty writers.
The pavement stones, the walking ladies,
The feeling up above the shadies

His softest voice, his tight embrace,
The heart in race, as in the face
Is sweetest smile and softest looks
It’s borderline like in the books…

The tinge of sweet, the sweaty saltness
Can be my sight at foult..ness…
But none of those ideas fostered
Could be of use, or maybe posted
Just lingering, the feeling of him missing
Just dreaming of… him softly kissing…

12 thoughts on ““Tinge…” [poetry]

      1. With writing it goes in different ways, as different things inspire.
        Sometimes, most times, I write the piece inspired by emotion in life, and then add the image I find online, which takes a bit.
        Other times it’s the image and maybe music, that inspires me, and I write from that.

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