The End

The Poem I am about to write,
Will fill papers and feel hearts,
It has a Tale so Loud, I hear it shout,
It is like a child in its mother's womb,
Filled with anticipation of a better world,
but disillusioned upon birth they cry
and when that child begins to crawl,
My hand will hold the pen scrolling across the lines,
covering spaces with ink,
like a child learning with curiosity new things
and heading one way to the End :)


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