SmileA Poem by the writer of woeJust some thoughts of my beloved.
Is it not wrong to see
That which cannot be? A smile upon the face Is nothing but of love a trace Lying empty as cold stone And not a king set upon his throne. But it was a bird to soar high Like a truth in place of life There is nothing that is more worthwhile Than upon her face, lying a smile. © 2015 the writer of woeAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on March 12, 2015 Last Updated on March 12, 2015 |

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