Tue, 10/09/2018 - 23:26 -- tcolety

Always shifting

Always changing

Never in their final form


A breeze sweeps in

They take new shape

Affected by the world around


Always growing

Never waiting

For this day will be no more


Eyes look over

Floating grateful

Want to thank their guiding winds


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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