Away from the city,
hiding among trees.
There is a painting
of an angel beast.
White and pure,
are your wings.
Try to fly,
touch the sky.
What's the matter?
You got to the other side?
That's the price,
of being a painting on a wall.
Beautiful little creature.
locked in a 2D world.
YOU ARE READING
A Dimming Mind
PoetryA preview of a few poems from A Dimming Mind poetry collection. - I've pondered various ways to describe this book, but none felt right. It's not your conventional book-it's a collection of memories, my memories gathered over the years. The first po...
