I can watch but cannot heal.
My warm rains know how I my feel,
down it will go;
To the cold ground I had grown
Oh how I wish to do more than watch.
The tropic lands with warm sands
The ocean blue like foreign lands
And the child who runs from the whole
I see it go
Tropic land. Child's soul. Ocean blue.
All because I play God
And not the father they knew.
Oh how I wish to do more than watch.
YOU ARE READING
My poems
FantasyThey're just here to help me cope and hopefully help some of you cope or better understand yourselves. I truly hope you enjoy.
