No man is unknown or all alone
In this age of pixelated passions;
We carry in our backpack
The same brand of anarchy, where
Our promises are echoes of the promises of past
Whilst the question is one: Why the answers never last
But wither away, dust, under each misled gaze
The One way remembered, a hundred different ways
Till after a while
It all returns to this:
Forked roads, Old home, second chances and first kiss
Hey this poem is really good and deep. It has very subtle rhymes and some great thoughts. Kudos.
Thank you very much for the compliments, my friend. I am glad you liked it
Very poignantly and soundly evoked poem.
Thank you very much 😊
You’re welcome.
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Thank you very much 😊
It will be my pleasure to read your work 👍👍
Thank you so much!! I am grateful for your kind words!!😇😇😊😊
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