The seconds tick by, fading away into minutes, that fade away into hours, days, months, years, decades, and eventually centuries.
Winter, spring, summer, and fall. The blood moon rises and then it falls. The stars shine high above, and the sun lights the sky.
It starts with birth, and eventually comes a life. But everything ends in death. Decay, and spread throughout the green Earth, bringing fourth more life.
And thus repeats the cycle.
Like a river, it's powerful and ever flowing, stopping for no one, and no event. It inevitably whirls around its obstacles, eventually looking into a larger meaning or down into a depth below.
It's a flow that never stops; life goes on, and time will mend our broken hearts.
(Had a little tiny bit of help from my friend Cadence to write this one.)
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Unprofessional Poems
PoesíaJust poems that were written by a teenager who does really know what she's doing. Please read. I promise they're not terrible- just unprofessional, and sometimes kind of angsty.
