scribbled poetry in one of several journals,
hot tea that turned cold on my table top,
white roses in vases, beauties I bought for myself,
moon scented incense burning on my bookshelf,
peach, lavender and white fabrics dangling,
a nostalgic song I'm singing trails down the hall,
and my wide eyed angel boy, named Nicolas
I'm so blessed, so much energy buzzing in me
no time to wither away by cause of life's wicked sea
going with the flow, I've learned to be flexible
and of all of these, perception is my most useful weapon
No comments:
Post a Comment