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Old Soul Oct 2014
Where autumn leaves kiss the ground
That is where you will find me
Staring up into life
Watching this great cycle

The branches are like earth
And the leaves like the people
Who knows when it will end
But at least it is beautiful

The leaves need the branches
To grow up and feed
They overcome the obstacles
That life has to offer

But then it becomes their time
They turn old and brittle
Changing colors along the way
Getting ready for once last dance

And then they let go
Swirling around in the air
Finally settling down
On the cold autumn ground

Then the branches are bare
But spring soon comes
Bringing blooming flowers
And a whole new set of leaves

The repitition is endless
What a beautiful cycle of life
As I sit here and ponder
When will it be my time
Quickly penned this poem down as I watched the autumn trees sway in the breeze. This is my first attempt at a poem that doesn't rhyme. I will be revisiting this poem and editing it in the near future.
Old Soul Oct 2014
Have you ever read a book,
So sad it made you cry?
Have you ever read a book,
So much that you felt high?
Have you ever read a book,
So real you felt in sync?
Have you ever read a book,
So sensual you turned pink?

Have you ever watched a movie,
So dynamic you wish you could fly?
Have you ever watched a movie,
So convincing you'd comply?
Have you ever watched a movie,
So awesome you couldn't blink?
Have you ever watched a movie,
So perplexing it made you think?

Have you ever imagined these stories,
And really wished them to be true?
Have you ever sat and realized,
That these stories helped shape you?
Just a quick poem I wrote as I sat and watched one of my favorite shows and realized how much some things really shape us sometimes without you really noticing.
Old Soul Oct 2014
Blues, Greens, Neon Pinks
Swirling all around
Jumping Around, Upside Down
Hanging from the sink

Hiding in the cupboard
Collapsing on the bed
You are not here with me
You think I'd get it in my head

But although I think I see you
I should really get the clue
This world is a crazy world
And maybe I'm just crazy too
My first poem that I very hastily threw together.

— The End —