Feb 2014
I am like the leaves on the ground;
the bones in the grave,
Dead
As I sit as motionlessly
as a tall brown oak,
Eyes dark,
stormy weather,
Lighting strikes,
thunder booms,
A tear falls
I am alive again.
the bones in the grave,
Dead
As I sit as motionlessly
as a tall brown oak,
Eyes dark,
stormy weather,
Lighting strikes,
thunder booms,
A tear falls
I am alive again.
I entered this poem in a contest awhile back. And I just found out that it will be published in a poetry book! My mother is not appreciative of my work. She doesnt understand the meaning of this. It hurts me. She hurts me, I hope that anyone who reads this can relate, or at least understand
