People Make the World Dance.
How does the world turn?
Do angel wings beat the air?
No! We make it move.
Surely you feel it;
The planet's strong heartbeat.
Giving us power.
Sing a song of pride!
Stomp your feet with rythmic noise.
We make the world dance.
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Meli Echelon
I don't write poems according to conventions, rules, or structures. I use the word vomit in my brain and put it on paper. I like to think of myself as a Wallflower with an overflow of excitement and nerves. I don't feel fear easily, but when I do, it means something.
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