The wind is
moving my hair around.
Dancing with it.
Telling me
to look around.
To look at all the
opportunities
the life will bless me with.
I want to see them.
But my sight
is fogged
and I can't truly see
the beauty and
the sun
I am going to go through.
The only thing I see
is the clouds that
come when the wind is blowing
and the pain that will come
with them,
when I'll try to
blow them away.
So I stand.
Not moving.
In the blowing wind.
YOU ARE READING
The Questions (and Answers, Maybe)
Thơ caThis is a poetry book about questions I have on my mind almost all of the time. It's about poetry itself, my feelings, my points of view on some hard topics and more. It's very personal for me, but I know that many other people think about these thi...
