When a soul that is trapped longs to be freed the spirit was once as strong as the hum of 1000 worker bees begins to weaken. While tears pour frequently in private a smiling face is placed upon the one that shows sorrow. A certain stride is inserted into the walk of someone who's past is full of shakey tiptoes on the floors of a glass house.
As we step with our heads held high even when we Wish that we could hang them in shame, our silent prayers are sent up to the heavens where we regain strength. Our souls feel free and our spirits are lifted and our psyches begin to feel so liberated that the ground is almost non - existent and for that short moment we become angels and sour as high as our souls do
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as it applies
Poetrythis is for my friends I've lost in the last 2 years ashley, Aaron, Jerrick,Chris, marcus this is for you
