March 25, 2013 by William Leed
are born of those things
we least concede of ourselves.
Posted in Poetry | Tagged born, concede, least, ourselves, poem, poetry, prejudices, soft, talking leaves, william leed | 1 Comment
and sometimes these prejudices grows with time.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 383 other followers
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.