Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
legs crossed over each other hands by my side i sit here in this chair but i travel with my mind i breathe in smoky air and exhale wisps tinged in purple. they form pictures before my eyes in them i read stories better than any in a book. my stream of conscience flows, undulating as if a scarf stolen by the wind, up down and all around. never settling until the wind stops when will the wind stop? never. i hope. however, all good things must end.
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
stream of conscience
legs crossed over each other hands by my side i sit here in this chair but i travel with my mind i breathe in smoky air and exhale wisps tinged in purple. they form pictures before my eyes in them i read stories better than any in a book. my stream of conscience flows, undulating as if a scarf stolen by the wind, up down and all around. never settling until the wind stops when will the wind stop? never. i hope. however, all good things must end.
Written by
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem