When poets need a helping hand,
you’ll see that Mister Darcy stands...

If tomorrow I am gone by morning
Like the moon does every now and then...

I long for you to be with me
like dew on grass at morning free...

i wanted to be a snail
to hide comfortably in my shell...

there’s always a first time for everything
every morning, i open my eyes for the first time...

Change.
Does Change itself ever changes...

On one hell of a morning, when the lair of an evil...
“Mr. J...

shh ..
have you ever been to a desert...

pirouetting, dancing
skating through thin ice...

Oh Husband, husband
I hear them chirp...

When night falls and crime calls
I be Batman...

poetry,
you are music to my eyes...