“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
He was angry Was he naught.
To be naught Was he then
To be then, This angry naught.
She loved him then, Or did she naught.
To then, they this Knew then not.
I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.
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I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.