Among so many verses, I sprouted here. I don't know if it's a poetry or a poet. It no longer rhymes like it used to. Dancing at the party, for one alone While it still believe

Is it poetry or a poet? Sighs without knowing the answer It goes with the wind Passion with no body Verse with no poetry Poetry with no poet Whatever

Not a verse,

Not poetry,

Not a poet,

It's just words With little nexus It doesn't even want to explain itself anymore

It continues to type out of sheer distress.

To be, without being anything

Talk to me

Emilico