What's west of January?
Is it winters in July?
Is it spring skies in August?
What's west of January?
Is it a sea of color and joy?
Is it skies of gray and sadness?
What's west of January?
It it Oz, Neverland, or Naria?
Is it a parallel dimension to our own where every tree is made made of stone and every stone is made of wood?
What's west of January?
Is it my hopes and dreams?
Are my lost memories there?
What's west of January?
Is it the future? The present? The past? Is there someone there who knows how my life will turn out or is he just sitting there hoping for the best?
What's west of January?
Is it answers to my questions?
The right decisions for my life?
Please tell me what's west of January. I know there is something there, just like how I know there is something southeast of July and north of November. I want answers. I am tired of imagining because I would rather be knowing what's west of January.
YOU ARE READING
These poems mean nothing.
PoetryThese are just the poems you found in the attic. You think they were from the old owners daughter. Its in a plastic folder labeled "These poems mean nothing." So you open the folder to find out what 'nothing' really means.
