This one's for AmericaA young man and woman fell in love {forbidden love} and had a child. { who they could not care for} Outcasted by their families, they {tyrants of their kind} traveled to a new place.This one's for America
And in this new place {they
UNTITLEDI return to the sounds and smells of fallUNTITLED
School starts, drama increases…must find an outlet…leaves swirl around me on my way to the apple orchard, the old family haunt, to the barn where the sweet smells of cider and pumpkin rise into the sky and back to the ground, where your odd apple falls, so you reach for another and pack it into your happy little bag, to the tractor you rush not wanting to be left in a miniature healthy paradise, as the apples are swept away your drop off into a pumpkin patch, were you spend you time naming your favorite small ones, later into the evening the parents pack there favorite small one
Your Clawsmy feet are bound I am standing at the opposite side of a rail road track your hands are out stretched towards me coaxing me the lights are blinking redYour Claws
your tempting my fate the chugging of the engine
Where my Poetry StartedYouWhere my Poetry Started
I was sitting in the rain in my garden that would not grow I was sitting until the sun came out, I sprang up with a surge of happiness.
Then I saw you. You walked into my garden and my flowers grew, they bloomed beautifully before my eyes. So beautiful, So beautiful
Now I stand still shocked and amazed, afraid to move. Too afraid to do anything. If I move I might break the delicate flowers. I stand there so happy, so unsure. I stand there waiting, waiting. Now you’re approaching me. I can’t help but smile. Your kind face erases my f
Wayy Bored
Stuck
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