Running.
Feeling the wind.
Seeing the colors blur by.
The voices, the screams
of the people.
I cannot hear them.
I run faster than the cheetah.
I run faster than the wind.
No, I am the wind.
When I run, I am the wind.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poems
PoetryJust an easy way to keep my poems in one place. Check it out! Please Comment!
