If we were meant to stay in place, we'd have roots instead of feet,
And I think that's why I am always drawing trees.
Because I've got the urge to go
But my feet have been buried deep
And every time I move, I stand silently and weep.
For I'm stuck fast in this pit and the only way out I see
Is curling up on the bottom and letting the earth cover me.
3/9/2015 @6.30 pm
YOU ARE READING
Just A Troubled Mind Looking For Peace
PoetryA collection of lyrically inclined phrases that have popped into my head over the years. ~B.A.L.K Much love. Hard love.