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| Tuesday, December 26, 2006 |
and now, a poem i wrote in 1997...
through the whispering clouds
the moon shines down
illuminating the still quiet night
as the trees sway back and forth
i can see every drop of rain
and feel the sensation on my body
i stand alone looking out to the heavens
i reach out to touch what isn't there
the silence is deafening
i cover my ears to muffle nothing
humbled by my surroundings
the night and i become one
my vision is becoming clear
the sounds i hear make sense
i breathe in the fresh air
because this is my drug of choice
im growing older in my mind
the birds fly over my head
the darkness lights up the night
i can see beyond the distance
the leaves begin to drop
and the earth breaks their fall
the rain has washed the ground
leaving only myself as a witness
the warmth is moving through my body
my feet are dry where i stand
i can hear myself think
and yet i cant move a muscle
the sun begins to rise
and the earth comes alive
i dont understand the morning
it has taken my only friend away
ricky borba. 1997
10 years later, i realize how pathetic and lame this is.
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| posted by
Ricky
@
10:11 PM
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