A hand reaches for the touch of soft and cold.
The night grew upon her as she tells all the lies.
She came to truth with her self in order to better.
She never knew these times could bring colder weather.
Bond fires were lit and she caused herself warmth.
For the fire burned out as the wind started to swarm.
Then water came out from above the trees.
Poems tell stories in which we should hold.
As if they were memories that stick out as we grow.
Things have changed and things do get better.
Its all in if you trust in the times of stormy weather.
We haves plans laid out for stories ahead.
Yet we have in front of us now.
When worst comes to worst we think for a while.
Sit at night alone to think.
Yet that's when I realize the stars are neat.
The world is different when you pay attention.
Trees become castles or new inventions.
YOU ARE READING
|°Simply Structure°|
PoésiePoetry has always completely held me together. It's kind like how you breathe oxygen. It's something I have to do. Poetry is something like oxygen to me. Without it I wouldn't survive. ~ remember love is a crime and I'll do the time for loving what'...
