Best Poem of Octavious Harper

Bombs Over Paris
It was August thirty-first.
I remember it well.
The first time I had heard
those sirens wail.
I was told everything's fine
you have nothing to fear,
but little did I know
destruction neared.

Six months had passed
filled with paranoia &
pain. Wondering when
and if . . .
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The Lone Wolf (Haiku)
In the vast tundra
The young wolf howls at the wind
Saying, 'Where are you? ' . . .
Read the full of The Lone Wolf (Haiku)