Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 7
If there is one thing I have learned on my travels,
it is that
the currency of eternity is the fingerprints you leave on the fabric.

The slow imprint of a million miles walked. Set free your timid heart and
leave behind an outline of an essence.

An amorphous mold that denies the shape of the world around it.
Be a surprise.
Let them label you a miracle or a sickness.

In time they will come to realize
the edge of the world is a place to dance.
Reach forward, and gift sound to silence.
Written by
Brett  27/M/NYC
(27/M/NYC)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems