is art still art when you don't believe in it -- but everyone around you does?
can you be friends with those who lie?
can you exist without defining your character?
who wants to live in nyc and what for -- the option of saying it?
(i actually can answer that question.)
how do you look yourself in the mirror?
when is lust and desire worth it?
is their truth in silence?
how can he be everything to everyone without being something to himself?
can you stand the rain?
holla if you love and miss the real new edition!
do tears spilled mean the same thing they used to -- or have we learned to manipulate tears ducts like people?
when is enough enough?
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1 comment:
lorenzo, that's fair -- though i would consider that sort of poem "storytelling", right? but i definitely understand your position. i have written similar pieces, but i think some parts of my poems reflect my opinion -- even if i am judging the character in the poem (see jezebelle's journey)... thanks for your hit
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