The history of the cubicle — An unknown poet who sings to himself

Every knock on the door Like a fly Sticking in my throat When there was another knock on the door My muscles have been cut The Knock on the door like a sharp knife for me I was surrounded by knocks at the door The knocks would not stop If you completely ignore the […]

via The history of the cubicle — An unknown poet who sings to himself

About poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.
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