Once we lay
On the green carpet of the Earth
Looking up at an oil painting
There was not a star in sight
But the clouds look like velvet
There was a stillness in the air
And it felt like we were the only ones out there
The moon appeared
But it did not speak to us
I showed you who I was
Before the world told me who I should be
And I had given you the opportunity
To die in my arms
Or on the pages of my poetry
And I wrote
I am still writing you away
Perhaps I loved you to miss you
Perhaps it was the relief I'd feel everytime I met someone new
And didn't feel the same way as I did with you
Devouring precious words,
Once hidden in a treasure chest,
Inside of a stranger’s mind.
The crisp scent of a new book,
A collection of poems,
The key to someone’s mind and striking soul.
You force yourself into the marshy boots of a young girl residing on an ancient farmland field,
You feel the sunlight soaking your face,
As you pluck strawberries from the leafy shrubs,
And ride a horse across the endless meadows to taste liberty.
You inhale the air of their world,
That lives exclusively in your mind.
A world of ecstatic glee,
And shed distressed teardrops for all their little world’s sadness.
You’ve teleported into a different realm,
Following the flow of beautifully chained words,
And letting your imagination run free.
You are living in the life,
A poet once dreamed.