It's a person
on a cold spring day
walking across the damp grass
covering up with a fixed
expression on their face.
It's me, pausing, wondering,
then continuing on
my thoughts overtaken by
more thoughts.
It's a person, gone and
now all that's left is
a piece of wood.
It's a person who stops
where the wood stands
soaked by rain
and as they hunch their neck,
they look inside.
It's a person
observing
who can only judge by what's on the outside
not even expect thoughts that
drift in their mind
like clouds in the air
on a cold spring day
so high yet so near
so near
always.
YOU ARE READING
some poems :)
PoetryHere are some poems I have written... Not many people will see this but I don't mind. I hope you like them :)
