I see beauty constantly
Where no one dares to look
An illustrator
I am
To the tantalizing sea breeze that
could bring the hardest of men to their knees
Here I am
The recorder of thoughts
Of the trees that stand alone
Watching us live our somewhat purposeful lives
Deep in despair
I force myself to take in the open air
For at least
It is something real
For at least
It is something that makes me feel
-K
YOU ARE READING
Melancholy Dreams
PoesiaMy poetry is an extension of myself. Every time I write, I stain the page with portions of my thoughts and emotions. Pieces of my former self lie in the stanzas. What is left is the current version of myself. This is my story, more or less.
