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A Dec 2018
Fly
inside my windy turmoil
I stand in the eye
trying to keep my balance
and hoping, somehow, I'll fly
A Dec 2018
The old tree on  Maple Lane stood unwavering on the cold December night

that the young girl ended her plight

it creaked sorrowfully

as the child that once swung from its ancient limb

was buried on that evening so grim.


The old tree on Maple Lane danced to the rhythm of the wind

that glided all about, completely undisciplined

it flowered wonderfully

as the joyous winter that brought it innocence

was replaced with a warm immanence

The old tree on Maple Lane
had seen so much beauty
and so much pain

The old tree on Maple Lane
was completely beautiful and wise
Until it was slain.
save the trees!
A Dec 2018
the truth is
i write poetry
because i dont know how i feel
until i put pen to paper, and my emotions become real
A Nov 2018
i think with my heart
and i move with my head
i open my mouth
and its something ive read
A Nov 2018
he is fire
and i am cold
sit back and admire
cause our love is gold

solid as the ground beneath our feet
free as the birds above our heads
with each other we are complete
hand in hand, until our deathbeds
A Nov 2018
the most beautiful sound in the world
is the soft pitter patter of gentle rain
on a quiet fall evening...
A Nov 2018
if
if you were rain
id never want to see the sun again
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