here are two poems of mine. the first was one of the first i ever wrote
about 3 years ago. now i am 23. world's revolving....music pounds through
me, truly does.
a hand grows from the body
of a tree
wild
unwritten
free
CLEAN
the sun was so clean feels like white
phosophor bleeding
like someone standing on the top of a building
and the air feels like its pouring out of my body
there is no body
only air sweeping the way it does
trembling grass in a silent canyon
the only motion from little rocks
bouncing down the yellow slope of a mountain
the sound they make
is not heard
air vibrates mutely
as there is no one around to hear them fall
but
there is no sadness
no sadness at all
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