Jun 2015
I write with my eyes closed,
When feelings are no more than colors,
floating in the darkness of my imagination,
Where fingertips flow fluently across pages,
I can only imagine catch the fallen words,
I write with my eyes closed,
and with an open mind.
Freedom is for my own hands to find.
When feelings are no more than colors,
floating in the darkness of my imagination,
Where fingertips flow fluently across pages,
I can only imagine catch the fallen words,
I write with my eyes closed,
and with an open mind.
Freedom is for my own hands to find.
There are times you believe you are ok. You fool yourself enough the world believes and when you are in the closure of your own being and leave expression solely on feeling free, then and only then will it show you are a little unsteady.
