When I feel sick of the world,
I take a walk.
I find a place where I can be tightly curled.
I don’t talk.
A few streets away,
Is the swing set next door.
A few minutes I stay,
And think about everything, from the moon to the ocean floor.
Minutes pass by,
Maybe and hour.
Now, this place, I mustn't lie
Is the sacred place that calms my emotions, sweet and sour.
The place that I went to for childhood play,
Is the same place where I shed my tears.
The memories of my childhood will forever stay.
But I will never forget these years.
-FJ
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
When I feel sick of the world,
I take a walk.
I find a place where I can be tightly curled.
I don’t talk.
A few streets away,
Is the swing set next door.
A few minutes I stay,
And think about everything, from the moon to the ocean floor.
Minutes pass by,
Maybe and hour.
Now, this place, I mustn't lie
Is the sacred place that calms my emotions, sweet and sour.
The place that I went to for childhood play,
Is the same place where I shed my tears.
The memories of my childhood will forever stay.
But I will never forget these years.
-FJ
