Miles of open and I feel stuck in place
No noise, not a word spoken, nor heard
Mind drifts, as the wind carry’s, it like the birds
With one step in front the other, you let it float
Until there is nothing but slince
..... true peace.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
Miles of open and I feel stuck in place
No noise, not a word spoken, nor heard
Mind drifts, as the wind carry’s, it like the birds
With one step in front the other, you let it float
Until there is nothing but slince
..... true peace.
Request permission to use this poem