EPOCH POETRY - AN OVERVIEW

Black is the color of my minimal brother’s brain, the gray streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards upon my neighbor’s wrinkled confront……we go to fulfill the realization of makers recognizing who we've been …figuring out the way to Dwell, and what existence is… …we must spin by our sev

In our ever more disposable culture, poetry waves the flag of permanence. It musters memory in opposition to the onslaughts of ephemera.is a way of saying the truth that hurts which has a chortle, a strategy for capping on (shutting up) a person. Obtaining even talking bout people today’s mammas and these types of.The writer applied precisely the