Soup of words,
nourishment of the brain,
soothing to the soul,
enlightening to the heart.
Moving in verse,
touching in love,
or aiming in curse,
mixture of alphabets,
some maybe regrets.
Still we mix,
add our tricks,
hoping for love,
fearing hate,
so on we wait.
As the curtain opens,
appetites savor to consume,
they either feed,
or leave the room.
As the curtains drawn,
and all have gone,
is it pick the bone,
throw the stone,
or loves throne?
Whatever,
we still
write
on.
G
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and we tcb...tooo....lol...;p!!
Love Tinka