I would rather

I would rather be a clown clad in a tattered gown Than be a neat clone of every pretty one I would rather cry and cry and let the whole being sigh Than pretend to forget  that we never really met I would rather so much miss that never happening kiss Than bare my body…

Drops of April rain

This memory too shall pass like drops of April rain The one that agonizes my world and on my soul it reigns   So then what will it be? If not a reminiscence Will it be a passing thought Or just that shallow fragrance?   This story too shall remain untold And scattered in pieces…