Precious and priceless
Yet tender and frail...
<: The Angel Tree :>
Golden daffodils in silvershoes with bells...
I love the feeling of cold linoleum
as I sit alone in the dark...
In the midst of the get together,
smiles were exchanged to last forever...
Darkness covered the land
My feet knew not where to go...
I've looked everywhere and I can't seem to find
the childlike quality I left behind...
I do not write poems or rhymes.
They write themselves...
Don't you just
Hate the feeling...
When nobody's around
I can hear the calling sound...
I don't think I write poetry.
Though sometimes I write rhymes...
Truth; It shall set you free.
Is love...
The birds singing their
chorus at dawn...