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This is a poem I wrote one day while sitting outside on my porch. |
| Night time drawing near, I see winter clouds of gray. A place for my head to clear, Outside is where I stay. Engulfed in my own thoughts, Thinking of this earthy place. The clouds never pause, They roll at a steady pace. The trees dance, Making beautiful sounds. The wind prances, And blows all around. Oh how I wish I were more like nature: Graceful, Sweet and Safe, From things Id make my own disasters. Rain pouring; making lakes; Or maybe be a musician To natures calm symphony. Living in salvation, Having to show no empathy. Could I be a bitter sweet chill In winters white present? Or a thunder storms thrill Making weather chasers pleasant? I am merely me, Just wondering about the world. What will come to be? Soon will daisies twirl? It seems so peaceful now, Almost like a shield. But what terrors are to come? What should we learn to yield? |