*This one is kinda childish, it's kind of old*
We all have strings tied to our feet. They all go to the same place.
A big metal ball, and it spins and it turns in the middle of the earth.
When somebody dies, the strings are untied, and a new walking body takes their place.
We don't realize how much we effect one another.
But the more we move and the more the ball turns, the more the strings get tangled.
You see, everyone is connected, some more than others.
But everyone's strings have touched yours.
That's why when you hear something horrible happen on the news you feel something.
A whisper.
A breeze.
A mere feeling of friction in your bones.
A cold pit in your chest.
But it's still there.
No it didn't effect you life, but it did effect your strings.
Cause each person has two.
Each string has four knots.
Each knot ties to the ball.
As the ball turns the knots shift.
If a knot comes loose, it shifts a bit more.
But for one person the knots are four.
If four knots come loose as do the strings.
As the strings get pulled out, they bump and push and pull their way free.
The other strings just try and make way.
But every push and even pull causes a vibration through the strings.
It passes back and fourth, to and fro.
Until every string can feel it.
That's why you sometimes get feelings you can't explain.
Some strings are long.
Some are short.
Some are thick.
Some are thin.
Some are blue,
Some are red,
Green,
Yellow,
Black,
Violet,
White,
Orange,
Pink,
Magenta,
Aqua,
Silver,
Purple,
Indigo,
And every other color.
Some are fuzzy.
Some are smooth.
Some have bumps and tears.
But they are all strings.
They are all connected.
And they all need each other.
YOU ARE READING
Neverland Or Wonderland
PoetryThis is some poetry about the broken hearted, the lost, the depressed, the angry, the suicidal, the psychos, and anyone else. Some of its not that great, and the grammar isn't perfect, but oh well (: Writing this stuff helped me through tough times...
