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"broadening" poems
Hello, Waitress in the sky So long her fear to fly She throws the world a smile bats her eyes in a wink she's gone hurling through the clouds calming others through turbulence **** the corporate scene Type A personalities acting mean humiliating her in a board meeting so she trades blue for green Goodbye Waitress in the sky trade her wings for a diamond ring So long her need for speed racing on the runway She was flying with the birds but now she's swimming with the fishes Deflated dreams of broadening horizons a-popped balloon and a rolling stone nowhere to go but everywhere Oh Lord, she won't get the answer tonight Oh sky, give her the strength to fly Oh Queen, find her a smart place to run and that's why she took US 66 for a drive
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
Goodbye Waitress in the Sky
complexity is your beauty simplicity your mystery interdependence sustains you once upon a time we dipped bowls into your waters and brought up draughts of life now Skipjacks go fathoms deep into endless depletion charting entangled dead zones broadening into a sea of inertness your delicate eco-essence tips toward oblivion effluvia farmers layer mechanized blankets of nitrates on your sunset shores weaving green tendrils of algae blooms strangling the entanglements of all links in your miraculous food chain the EPA proscribes a Jenny Craig pollution diet to halt the slaughter in oxygen challenged dead zones where rockfish are garroted, oysters get drilled by screwworms and azure tinted soft shell ***** dance soft shoe taps lifting a tinny chorus of sad Piedmont Blues the flat-lining watersheds voiceless warnings tremble rocking the purged nests of screaming ospreys in vocal protest of a sinking Tangier Isle anointing it’s tombstones of unvisited cemeteries with multicolored guano fitting alkaline tributes to the lost inhabitants and forgotten languages sinking into the brine of gray brackish tides Delmarva’s fine intra-continental balance skewed by the oozing industrial swill of Frank Perdue chicken farms ruling the roost of sanctioned sustainability tinging clear watersheds of finger lakes set in splints to repair dislocations and complex compound fractures that may never heal again Music Selection: Taj Mahal: Fishin Blues jbm Oakland 6/7/12
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 8:36 AM UTC
Chesapeake
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ perched atop a muddy graze amongst the reefing centipede does lady jade a’ponder days from whence the eldest had decreed. *"what's this a'fuss upon the breeze that sings a song of fallen trees?" **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn! a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** was broadening—a shiver, swift— bespoken of her crown to rest? what way whereby these spirits lift that hide should (of the head) contest? *"what, unbeknownst, should overwhelm this silv'ry shoat, what's felling elm?" **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn! a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** amidst a cruel cacophony, the lady seed, she must concede the razing of her progeny beholden to appease a need. *"what's this in want of dire good that preys upon upholding wood?"           **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!                     a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** on arbor brawn does ardor dine does earthen daughter march to meet as tireless as the vile design divesting mother's gen'rous teat. *"what subtleties uproot the heart as bodies from their souls depart?"           **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!                      a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Fauna's Mourning
I can see myself now, Shouting "farewell" to this place And the lonely souls who occupy it; Floating around in oblivious, liquid states. I've felt the tug of roots from the trees, Grasping my ankles, begging me to join them, But the promise of concrete skies and neon greetings have gnawed their way Through my skull. I won't apologize for giving in to my desires, For broadening my knowledge And making use of my short existence. I am not limited To this simplistic, little rock.
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:48 AM UTC
Farewell
Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you) We stood together in an open field; Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled, Sporting at ease and courting full in view. When loftier still a broadening darkness flew, Down-swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed; Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield; So farewell life and love and pleasures new. Then, as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground, Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops, I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep: But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep.
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3k
On The Wing
Under this canopy of dark gleaming stars I now sit allow my body to take residence in the aura of my own glowing       let thoughts              of reason          slowly unravel until they become one      long            thread connecting my mind but releasing it to the air Molecules, like the tiniest of crystals, gently whir energetically              about me in almost invisible stirrings letting the power of energy centers take over: Red,     for my root             for I am                tethered           to this earth        Orange, for the passion so strong                 and truly knowing          my own worth Yellow, for             my gut,                 instincts open               and a-light        expanding into universes, broadening my sight Then my heart washed through and through in shades of green its own incandescence filled with verdant,                      fiery sheens It beats a lantern of vitality in this ocean of pain sending a beacon in the darkness helping to break old, patterns prompt them to          snap like rusty chains Here it pumps in growth of leafy, budding  light Guiding my spirit       in ripeness full and bright I rise up into the indigo-turquoise of my throat as words burst forth                         in surges, in the salty froth of ocean spirals              they float, get pulled by mysterious urges Like waterfall mist just kissing the tips of eyelash                  flickers these words that have the power                  to calm or make my blood                  run quicker And then: the deep purple of my crown that tapers into a shimmering white           and I know I can now receive myself, calm, in queenly presence of mind of spirit in my highest                   form of                              light
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Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
A Reception of Light
Under this canopy of dark gleaming stars I now sit allow my body to take residence in the aura of my own glowing       let thoughts              of reason          slowly unravel until they become one      long            thread connecting my mind but releasing it to the air Molecules, like the tiniest of crystals, gently whir energetically              about me in almost invisible stirrings letting the power of energy centers take over: Red,     for my root             for I am                tethered           to this earth        Orange, for the passion so strong                 and truly knowing          my own worth Yellow, for             my gut,                 instincts open               and a-light        expanding into universes, broadening my sight Then my heart washed through and through in shades of green its own incandescence filled with verdant,                      fiery sheens It beats a lantern of vitality in this ocean of pain sending a beacon in the darkness helping to break old, patterns prompt them to          snap like rusty chains Here it pumps in growth of leafy, budding  light Guiding my spirit       in ripeness full and bright I rise up into the indigo-turquoise of my throat as words burst forth                         in surges, in the salty froth of ocean spirals              they float, get pulled by mysterious urges Like waterfall mist just kissing the tips of eyelash                  flickers these words that have the power                  to calm or make my blood                  run quicker And then: the deep purple of my crown that tapers into a shimmering white           and I know I can now receive myself, calm, in queenly presence of mind of spirit in my highest                   form of                              light
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101
A subtle carol echoes of the evening Upon bended knee I am arrested Betwixt strange refrains Shaking the floorboards of Teicu The evocative moans amplify The foolish peacemaker of astrologists The English dream of poetry Those I coaxed by death Were the witnesses of the tragedy And were familiar with its ballad Crafted the design ‘tis conceptual *********** Eradicated their honor for vanilla threads As they shimmy and shimmy They defile elongated hankering And retreated in the greenhouse of Woodstock Its language made iconic by efficacious character Having often been labeled an experiment Broadening its brilliance along death’s boulevard ‘tis she who was the stunning one Her language made sacred by her iconic fame A long time controversial reference An automaton, an origin of extraterrestrial etiology The evocative moans ensnares the tourist
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Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
Major Motion ***********
It cannot put pen to paper But all a flower has to do Is open up its delicate petals Unfolding like a noble lady's fan Broadening to blossom into a lovely jewel Poetry without any word A spider weaves its web Like an author spins tales It's intentions upon its survival, but Its intricate home of threads and strings Like a gossamer harp Is enchanting to perceive A make and design of fragile strength The oceans and seas Mighty and commanding They roar and display their majesty With crashing waves and splashy bravado They spare few prisoners And graveyards of sunken ships Whisper of stories untold Birds chirp and warble With songs that humans long to know For they travel through the air In simplistic freedom Their chorus of communication Is a poetic symphony just as entertaining As any band of musicians or artists The winds blow and whistle Though they have no mouths If you listen close enough You can hear their secrets Their breath of life in the Ever flowing Breezes that enfold us You'd swear the mountains Were painted that way Brawny and broad, peaked high above Against the grand canvas we call the sky Yes, paintings are poems, too For a picture speaks a thousand words But no mere man can make a mountain You see We are merely students Taught by God's natural, creative genius We are merely imitators Of what nature displays We are not originals For we are not the first poets Nor the first storytellers
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
God Is the Original Poet, the Original Storyteller
kurukshetra grey but iridescent with the glory of all dreams combined some omphalos of lusciousness still pumps an umbilicus of sates to broadening skies, parhelion whims
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Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
beginning of a poem
and i can feel you in my nerves and i can see you in my skin and i can't look away from your your soul is so promising just a hatchling of a chicken i am with my head cut off running loose in the barnyard barnyard lazy days are what i had and then i saw you and colors everywhere sprockets and gadgets and loose-runnings and shoes shoes without feet only energy only anticipation exhilaration in our eyes looking feeling touching touching toes with no shoes on cold toe warm toe is a good sensation a broadening horizon a war zone in my belly my belly rises and falls in time with yours the sun is up and stars are hiding we slept soundly fingers crossed between the others and then we knew it was it was everything we read about from old men's minds in starched collars with big dollars who dreamt these things couldn't have them sat in foyers with long pipes smoke filling lungs tears filling eyes tears filling eyes because i can feel you and and i can feel you in my nerves and i can see you in my skin and i can't look away from your soul.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
rampant
It’s crazy, Looking back on the time Before you and me, I was really happy then But you changed me. I was happy, But I needed you. Life would’ve looked different without you I’m not sure if I would’ve made a good future wife without you Happier ain’t always better If it means you’re stuck in your ways And not broadening your horizons, I needed you. To change my strong-willed ways I was happy, But I needed you. Life would’ve looked different without you I’m not sure if I would’ve made a good future wife without you. I cried, a lot. But what’s life without the hard stuff too, You touched my heart, That fact is true It turns out, I needed you. Happier ain’t always better If it means you’re stuck in your ways And not broadening your horizons. I needed you. To change my strong-willed ways.
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Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 5:24 PM UTC
I Needed You
Devils and mercenaries Dislocated shoulders Second hand panic Static cling Visions broadening perception Decrepit linoleum houses Men in the front yard, ***** Crawling in search of a fix and some pants Viles of junk, baggies of powder An unexpected destiny of agony Forced to dress up to please a higher society They won’t let me go With all the information I know The despicable disciple’s pillars of animosity and distain toward the rebellious over flow Never a hunter always a prisoner The bounty is huge for this lone survivor Two lunatics in a rubber room One claims to be captain of a magic carpet The other believes his skin is on inside out Both sunburned and daffy Her armada of refusal of failure goes unmatched Even my resistance is unparalleled to hers Electric shocks, water torture, brands, beatings, lashings and floggings My beard is torn from my face We will not surrender our splendid fascinations of the galaxy for you provincial ideals of pain and suffering to teach the divine path to enlightenment How sadistic We both lay silent and prepared ****** and bruised Devising the slaughter of their brutal oppressive cult
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Pagan’s Haven
The Quiet Time Setting on the evening tide in the silent void you will hear more than you did in the volumes’ day more Truth untainted without deluded aspects just pure raw gorgeous plain knowing words wingless with out Guile they speak of there own content no more or nothing less be barraged by this contagion regal Unadulterated without vile tampering you feel exhilaration the sweetness the fragrance that innocence Gives behold the garden and the flowers speaking the night air is one of the greatest calls you can hear As the tear speaks of sorrow and its need of silence then but let the heart rest and peaceful knowing and Rich stirring will reach you with tenderness the same as a baby’s touch you fall inward to blessings that Are flowing by you streams that cradle dreams delight a voyager who seeks a passage and finds it and It surpasses their expectation and nestles in the heart as honey when it touches your tongue what Pleasure a thrill that rolls smoothly onward restful you touch peaks and valleys that lie in the depths of The soul a broadening occurs enlargement of conciseness it is imperceptible in many ways but the sigh Might be mysterious but it waits for visitors then it flashes through a brilliant smile it divides and Conquers in a world of division harmony closes tensions gates the still prevails like the silent wind Made heavy by moisture on this the harvest of thoughts and words march to instill in your world You have been by yourself and at length you have unknowingly decreased so as to make room for Wisdom that seeks stillness always its intent is to evade the world fraught with ignorance build Bridges that crosses divides making connections drawing forth alliances that cheer you and others to New heights of achievement just as this writing has tried to do God bless you
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 2:22 AM UTC
The Quiet Time
The Quiet Time Setting on the evening tide in the silent void you will hear more than you did in the volumes’ day more Truth untainted without deluded aspects just pure raw gorgeous plain knowing words wingless with out Guile they speak of there own content no more or nothing less be barraged by this contagion regal Unadulterated without vile tampering you feel exhilaration the sweetness the fragrance that innocence Gives behold the garden and the flowers speaking the night air is one of the greatest calls you can hear As the tear speaks of sorrow and its need of silence then but let the heart rest and peaceful knowing and Rich stirring will reach you with tenderness the same as a baby’s touch you fall inward to blessings that Are flowing by you streams that cradle dreams delight a voyager who seeks a passage and finds it and It surpasses their expectation and nestles in the heart as honey when it touches your tongue what Pleasure a thrill that rolls smoothly onward restful you touch peaks and valleys that lie in the depths of The soul a broadening occurs enlargement of conciseness it is imperceptible in many ways but the sigh Might be mysterious but it waits for visitors then it flashes through a brilliant smile it divides and Conquers in a world of division harmony closes tensions gates the still prevails like the silent wind Made heavy by moisture on this the harvest of thoughts and words march to instill in your world You have been by yourself and at length you have unknowingly decreased so as to make room for Wisdom that seeks stillness always its intent is to evade the world fraught with ignorance build Bridges that crosses divides making connections drawing forth alliances that cheer you and others to New heights of achievement just as this writing has tried to do God bless you
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19
“We read to know we’re not alone.” C.S. Lewis says, as a character in the film Shadowland ~~~ my lovers mumble when they leer and clear the assorted sordid, livres with dust jackets, spines, and notable ideas, POV’s that dare to offend; me thinking seeing they’re uneasily resting uneasy, for there appears to be some scales, mountains that need mounting before they can successful scale my heights, a big BE WARY atmospheric global warning signs prior to enter my magic kingdom, quizzes  they are unassuaged they will pass with  any color schema, let alone flying ones… that amuses me, ah well, a sign of my changes, when those  days when a merely handsome man turned this now skeptical-woman agog, and flushes of heat made a breast beat,  a flesh and blood chin, *** eyes, rock me like a movie poster definition of movie poster handsome they are smarter and when they cautiously inquire re my diversity, a broadening array of fiction, philosophical disput- ations, that lay and lie with me, they, and I bare skinned, open to the ah ha! of titillating notions of human endeavor, or British ****** mysteries, and lots and lots of history… this commends and cerifies my screening choices for, when alone, I read to know I am are not alone, for my thoughts need hot company, and my caress of divers words diverges, in so many directions, I need assurance, insurance that the men who wish to bed me are capable of making love to my mind, where stimulus and that they can feed me endlessly a variety of bouchées amusantes, that wet my appetite for their entirety should they fail, to for want of trying, I comfort them obliquely, informing them that ”We need to read to know we are not alone!”
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Mar 3, 2024
Mar 3, 2024 at 8:33 PM UTC
“We read to know we’re not alone.”
“We read to know we’re not alone.” C.S. Lewis says, as a character in the film Shadowland ~~~ my lovers mumble when they leer and clear the assorted sordid, livres with dust jackets, spines, and notable ideas, POV’s that dare to offend; me thinking seeing they’re uneasily resting uneasy, for there appears to be some scales, mountains that need mounting before they can successful scale my heights, a big BE WARY atmospheric global warning signs prior to enter my magic kingdom, quizzes  they are unassuaged they will pass with  any color schema, let alone flying ones… that amuses me, ah well, a sign of my changes, when those  days when a merely handsome man turned this now skeptical-woman agog, and flushes of heat made a breast beat,  a flesh and blood chin, *** eyes, rock me like a movie poster definition of movie poster handsome they are smarter and when they cautiously inquire re my diversity, a broadening array of fiction, philosophical disput- ations, that lay and lie with me, they, and I bare skinned, open to the ah ha! of titillating notions of human endeavor, or British ****** mysteries, and lots and lots of history… this commends and cerifies my screening choices for, when alone, I read to know I am are not alone, for my thoughts need hot company, and my caress of divers words diverges, in so many directions, I need assurance, insurance that the men who wish to bed me are capable of making love to my mind, where stimulus and that they can feed me endlessly a variety of bouchées amusantes, that wet my appetite for their entirety should they fail, to for want of trying, I comfort them obliquely, informing them that ”We need to read to know we are not alone!”
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45
This is for a friend. Some one I believe in. Some one who holds my secrets. Yet may not know he does... Some one who understands words written. And the sorrows in doing so... Some one who thinks he hides in the darkness, But I know walks in the light... I just want to say thank you. To a friend... Thank you for broadening my horizons. AC/11/16/09
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Nov 29, 2009
Nov 29, 2009 at 7:14 AM UTC
For A Friend
Life changes so very fast The future- time to make-up for the past But what do I want anymore? I see no light at the end of the tunnel or various open doors Instead, I witness The most magnificent periwinkle-blue sky in front of me.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
Broadening the Horizon
Words swimming, words swimming Where are you going How could you leave me I thought you were my friend Drowsy, Drowsy Eyelids have surrendered Then suddenly you've vanished into nothingness I can practically feel your excitement of not being captivating enough for me Did you ever even care? For so long you have been my strength Now as I find my horizons broadening You shrink in comparison And I can't help but wonder How much did I actually rely on you? The isolation of me and you created an illusion of need But worry not Despite these differences I will never leave you Even as the words swim
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
Swimming Words
names faces traces places the laces of shoes she said I couldn't walk a mile in but my feet are fins that should slice tides like skin but they're rocks chipping ticking clocks documenting inception redemption and the vain conclusions you beat to and beyond the grave from ivory frames crushed in the dark room they rise as flies bursting into the focus of the microscope's lens broadening past the horizon of a single winged back
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 4:51 AM UTC
Expose
have you seen the sun today? rising over the horizon.. slowly rejuvenating the earth.. from the cold and dark night! have you felt the sun today? coloring the skin with bright hue.. broadening the lips with grin.. slowly warming up the skin! sleepless night gone past.. a new day to gather up pieces.. whatever is left behind.. after the towering inferno! some may rise, some may fall... hopes keep afloat .. to the mornings galore.. can you hear the hearse?
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May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 4:01 PM UTC
Sun - Hearse
A periwinkle snap of the fingers A glazed-over, ungazed-at afterthought of a dimwitted maker Allowing only specks of atmosphere to puncture through for gasps of air An assassination without capacity for reflection or modesty. Broadening my horizons, my eyes adjusting to the sun's sheddings, I notice the satin ribbons of the west, trotting over the hills, blood-lusting, Roaring in anticipation of the persecution of the dry, dusty chandelier to the north Forcing the lumination, Breaking open the porous night-covering threatening to its final breath The self-mutilation to bring it and its 3 navigational acquaintances to the bone-encrusted, sadistic Hell of the humans, modern-day Terra, the disease-laced, frayed blanket of Gaea. And as I viciously avert my eyes as the first blow finds a weak exposed abdomen, I pray to God that I might participate in this brawl, And I curse high heaven that it is so fateful a dusk.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
On a cloudy July 11th
...With much ancestral barking, and loaded quieting, the ghosts sat down to paint. Color renounced the spectrum... blanching their translucent shrouds as the firmament flailed maniacally, bludgeoning the telltale signs of lives painted by number. A fractal engorged upon itself...the ghosts foisted their vision. As refracted tunnel lights upon the cyclopic eye of a subway train...from front to rear. Went through both ends of The Tunnel, broad daylight...broadening, and broadening--till the ghosts sat down to paint...tethered color snapped loose.
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Ghosts Sat Down To Paint
It drizzled, ever so lightly, coldness seeping in and warmth radiated. Droplets of water streaming down my cheeks, wetting my dimples. My lips curved up broadening into smile and eyes filled with hope It drizzled ever so lovingly, wind blowing off and droplets sinking in. The grains of sand dancing under my foot, playing in joy. My heart widened filling itself with satisfaction and my mind filled with love. It drizzled and hope soared into my life, when wind blew and clouds moved Once again I hoped to live, be 'Green' and youthful again....
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
It Drizzled
Straggler whose self-edifying whip signs the energy of strandedness... padlocked to the cold ******* of earth, whose blood flecks gold in a rain of rays...ready to consume wholes in that broadening light of upturned eyes. Its scales, scaling scales that seem to equalize as open arms...legless, armless-- that belly's bloated deformity. Fluxing fat off the land, swiveling exclamation point tapping its head to outer reaches. Honorary guest ex nihilo, whose hiss is silence in reverse.
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Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
Serpens No.1
Sometimes I just wonder Wonder about everything and anything Wonder about the past, the present, and the future The possibilities, chances, wishes, dreams And sometimes thinking about all this Makes me petrified Scared for what is to come Worrisome of my choices Indecisive of my path Hesitant of my actions Unsure, wavering, uncertain And at other times I am excited Ready for the world Broadening my horizons Prepared to spread my wings And soar Ability to be Anyone I want to be To decide however I want to decide And then sometimes I just wonder Wonder about everything and anything Wonder about the past, the present, and the future The possibilities, chances, wishes, dreams And then I stop I stop wondering and question I marvel at my conflictions I embrace the opportunities Laid out before me Sometimes I just wonder If wondering is a waste of my time If thinking too much Can cause you to walk in circles In a never-ending cycle Within this immeasurable infinity Of such an inexhaustible vastness Which we call our world I wonder again Maybe this is what makes me human
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
Boundless