Gutter's smoke
waste not the feeling of the heart,
nay display the opinion that hurt the
flesh of lies, nothing seems empty
for the clock walks independently to
march the beginning of another day
salute the hour that had just came,
blind and see no one, believing thou not
accepting the truth behind the meaning
of what is honesty
lead me to a place, where something
special, a piece of art that capture the
entity of what is life, the out most
essence where all things begin
pour the bucket of never ending dreams
of reality and cloth the time of the
future to remember the past...
poem by Antonio Liao
Added by Poetry Lover
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