Tuesday, January 12, 2021


Rating: 5.0
all i want do is scream from roof tops of empty cities
abandoned and cold.
the kind of cold you feel after you've reached the deepest depths of the deepest ocean.
but in the depths you can't breathe, the roof tops there is air
i can breathe
slowly in and out counting in my head to 3
this roof top in this empty city does exist, like most things the roof top lives in my head
much like you and i
in my head we are happy
we are roaming gardens of lilacs, roses, sunflowers, and daisies
but lilacs are not lilacs
flowers are not flowers
the garden isn't a garden
flowers are delicate, must handle with care
much like my heart when it comes to you
juliana anonymous
Sylvia Frances Chan 13 January 2021
A spontaneous poem about the roamings of our thoughts. Exellently worded and true impressive! Thanks so much for sharing.
0 0 Reply
Kostas Lagos 12 January 2021
Fantastic poem! Thank you for posting!
0 0 Reply

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