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Lift Just Soft, Jury Loft

Lift just soft,
Jury loft
Is something I oft
Am finding myself thinking of

Counting minutes
Typing words
Racing stairs
Moving forward
Ever forward

Then backward
In an odd manner

I am going blind

Lift just soft,
Jury loft
Is something I am oft
Finding my self thinking of

Corny song
And photograph

Shyashin

Dancing and falling
Joyous moments

Flying

Taking to air

Lift just soft,
Jury loft

Bright lights
Birds and stars

I’m going blind

A forest breeze
Shows painting people

Bright blue and purple lights
Make shapes in the sky

Life my own way
If I could just remember
Having feathers
And a tail

Typing the sky
Take to new words
Making me go insane

Lift just soft,
Jury loft
Are words I find my self
Often thinking of
That I am often thinking of.



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Wildflower30 said...
Jan. 18, 2012 at 12:28 am
I LOVE the rhythm, and your thinking. No wonder the poem came out so good!
 
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