Season's Story

by CindyUng

August 10, 2015

Reading a story is the seasons

Of an altering year.

Just like spring leaves,

Every story falls with their reasons.

Endings shrivel up and start dying;

Leaving us cold and unsatisfied.

Yet once we read a new adventure,

The world blooms without sighing.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

CindyUng

Find me where the heart beats faster and the mind runs clearly. If you turn around, you might catch a glimpse of moonlight: Hold it close and you may hear the whispers of my aches and dreams. Speak softly now, you might scare the strength out of me. You'll never know where my thoughts will go next, just let me be the one driving this journey. Someday I'll return to the stars and sleep in the void, a place where I hope to find colors I've never seen before. And when I master the art of painting into the galaxies of pain and recovery, I will discover the truth in me. I will be free, I will be free. Let the constellations tattoo the spaces of my body. ***If you ever want me to check out your poetry, feel free to let me know!***

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.