Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Spoken Poetry
Spoken Poetry
Spoken Poetry
It is a bit strange how a familiar face gives this heat down to my veins
And if it’s the only way to get through each other, then it is a game I am willing to play
You are every color in the palette of this pretty globe we live in
Amidst the chaos around us, I think I already found the solace I seek within
Beneath the stars, we are lonely with only five senses to use
So, I will sing every song you have sung until my last heartbeat
A masterpiece I may say, sculpted by the finest sculptor for many decades
Knowing that you are on the other side, going to do the same
You turn rainy days into spring, you even adore the stubborn clouds