
Poetry
Folded Daily (1)
A daily I’m keeping for years, just for civility, you may say At the exact

A daily I’m keeping for years, just for civility, you may say At the exact

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments; love is not love

How old is he? who knows? seventy, eighty, or in between A tall man, once

In last three months or so a few achievements i made and two trophies i
