Literature
Your Poetry Sucks
Yes, roses are red
And violets are blue
But you have to understand
Who said they had to,
Its about imagination
Emotion and orignality
Not the reiteration
Of dead men's practicality
These words,
They are your sentence
To a world that has to listen
As you create the difference
Whether it be
With angst poem against love
Or how you set your heart free
To fly like a dove,
For these words
Whether or not they be true
Their beauty and ideals
Will be used to define you,
So yes,
Hope ,in fact, has feathers
And like a caged bird it sings
But these words will only be tethers
That strip you of your wings,
Those are their words
Meant for their time
And me
![[OPEN] Abnathul - SemiRealistic Style](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/c7cfda43-3a8c-4ed5-bb9e-5b5a2890f319/dgjkx9b-ea92920b-b629-4f22-85c8-554d2f842a66.png/v1/fit/w_375,h_667,q_70,strp/_open__abnathul___semirealistic_style_by_blackonrog_dgjkx9b-375w.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.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.uypzOD-el9ALMoUMl3YGWfFbkY-Ab4X6p34bx60DJWc)
