Poets

August 4, 2010
We live in our own world,
A world too small for
You to stoop down and enter,
Even on hands and knees;
The "grownup" subterfuge.
Eavesdropping on our talks,
With analytical eyes,
With an awe-struck look,
You probe, grone, and pry
Desperately trying to find the Spot orgin
Of the angelical place
Where we dance, where we play,
Where we fuse 'zzz'
When life is still
Under nighttime flowers;
Under ocean-crafted shells;
Under an eagle laying eggs
in it's future cupped nest
that mocks-mocks the fading
blue of your deserted heavens.





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ShernayB. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 31, 2010 at 11:18 am

Wow, very descriptive

Beautiful imagery. Iloved it.

<3:)

 
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