There is not to much to say about me, for little is left. I have no pride, no dignaty, no honor. Broken dreams and shattered hopes lay in the ashes where a proud poet once stood. Eyes cold and grey. A heart that struggles each moment to grasp another beat. And lungs that breaths blades upon which rip threw him like a cold winters day. I am bound by my own words, hide with in fears of no tomorrow, and cower with in shadows that I created from dreams that never came true. I seek not pitty or a helpfull hand. I ask not of anything. Though if hope does exsist, make me beleave for I have forgotten.
"Jasper Logan Brooks"
Im the fallen poet. What that is exactly. Is a poet thats torn down by broken dreams. His own imagination shattered before his eyes as hope was stripped from his mind and heart. Given up and turned his back on what it is that drives him. He now faces the world alone and hiding in the dark
A Little About Me
Jasper Logan Brooks
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