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Timber

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As I walk through the rubble
I feel
trashed
pulled apart
my childhood lies at my feet
sliding down dirt
stepping over broken branches
I feel the breeze
I feel the sun
I feel open
I do not feel closed in
cozy
settled
When I look around
the forest beats together
as a team
one heart
branches intertwined
like holding hands
My breathe collects in the fall air
brisk
bitter sweet is the memory
I recall as I climb onto
a freshly cut stump
my black boots standing out
on the raw wood
Sometimes things happen you can’t change
and then you have to step back
and let the world, sometimes your world
fall to its feet
as you whisper
“timber”.



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FallenoutofgraceThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Oct. 13, 2013 at 7:52 pm:
This is so good I like how you use your childhood in your poem. Amazing imagery  
 
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