Nona's Poetry Corner

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. (W.B. Yeats) Here lies that which is inside no more, that which burns my mind and must be expelled. Here lies the greatest of all inventions. Here lies words.

Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2020

Paranoia

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10/09/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation You wound me with your words, They bite and scratch and claw, The offend my sensibilities And you do n...
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Nona Rose
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