Poems from BePellet
I never know which day will be your last,
When, exactly, your name could become synonymous with tragedy,
And so I feel like grabbing your...
When I have grown old and somber,
and can't remember your face,
I want you to tell me
every
single
day
that I am young.
Video:
I dedicate myself to public speaking
Peaking subtly along with the days and nights and weeks and whatever comes next
Sometimes I talk too...