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The Unknown
May 27, 2012
The wind doesn't hit them
The sun rays do not gleam on them
They leave in a land that doesn't exist
They cry in the corner
Waiting for someone to find them
To feed them the words
That they yearn to hear
The melancholy in the place
Is to hard to imagine
No one speaks
Only you hear The breath of brave,sad souls
Waiting to exist
All that they wish
All that they yearn
Is to fit in that place where the sun hits and the wind blows
The place where they can be heard
Earth
© Travis W., Highland Village, TX
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