Best Poem of H.E Warfield

The Stoic
What does your heart digest in your most private hour?
What does your mind disgorge in your most contemplative moments?

Do you resist the torment it comes, and lick the honey from your lips?
Or do you let it exude, like sweet sap from an old oak tree,
Tattered and torn by the names calved in you over the years . . .
Read the full of The Stoic
Just Another Girl
Welding me to him with amorous glances.
I am just another shadow following my Casanova.
Ostensible affection among many.
I am just another chip in his parlaying games. . . .
Read the full of Just Another Girl