She moved angelically, pulling her own strengths, painting a new born legacy. Her feet were planted firmly to the ground as she turned, pushed, pulled, grabbed, and straightened the framed gravity. She let her arms flex under pressure, holding the heavy ceiling against her hands. The world was falling, but she stood straight, knees barely bent, and back like a board.
She was the strongest, the bravest, most intelligent. She lived life like it was a movie. So much fun, but she still had time for work, love, education. She made it seem so easy. She made everything seem to be the easiest thing in the world.
She was all you could want. But sadly, that ceiling was just too much for her.
YOU ARE READING
Spoken Poetry
PoetryThese are some poems of my own. They are about all different things. Some of them can be a little upsetting for younger readers.
