The breeze and gusts spewed out far east
winding the curves and edges of boulders
brushing past coasts and endless waters
spiraling up where all soils ceased
Each lap it passed made lips stretch to smiles
being tangled in soft hands and fingers
racing, racing, racing
and dragging endless new items to the finish line
First item, leaves painted red
Autumn was advancing, making its entrance
shifting the greens to its own colour
The leaves bringing laughters into the air
Second item, flakes of snow that tinged our clothes
The noises have stopped
then came the holidays
red, green, and warm decorations
Third item, the harmful one
Nicotine, the pungent odour,
Brought many to their deaths
Pollution
The race wasn't the same for the wind
The breath they had spelled diseases
The strength they contained were poisoned
The gusts grew black, the colour of sin
Date Written: October 23, 2011
YOU ARE READING
All Things Poetry
RandomJust a compilation of the poems I save throughout the years. Sadly, the ones from when I was much younger was lost. I wish I'd published them.
