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The seeds are pressed gently into their crevices Like hair follicles on my skin Skin so tender Turns so red When juice leaks down Sweet and bitter all at once. Sweet Because I heard only children cry When they scratch their knees Or mommy dropped them off at day care. Yes, I have been there. Bitter Because I heard only children cry Yet the space between my eyes Carries a bridge between two worlds That will never seem to collide. I have reached the tender green top My reminder of the earthly wonder Of peace Even in tumultuous minds. I long to run my fingers through the grass And listen to the sweet nothings the wind whispers In my ear. Sweet nothings leave bitter somethings far from near.
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
To Find Fruition
The seeds are pressed gently into their crevices Like hair follicles on my skin Skin so tender Turns so red When juice leaks down Sweet and bitter all at once. Sweet Because I heard only children cry When they scratch their knees Or mommy dropped them off at day care. Yes, I have been there. Bitter Because I heard only children cry Yet the space between my eyes Carries a bridge between two worlds That will never seem to collide. I have reached the tender green top My reminder of the earthly wonder Of peace Even in tumultuous minds. I long to run my fingers through the grass And listen to the sweet nothings the wind whispers In my ear. Sweet nothings leave bitter somethings far from near.
mariya-timkovsky
Written by
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
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