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Your hands draw music from the mute. Whimpers and near silent prayers, murmurs from below bubble and spill. Waves crash and the melody swells from a once silent body.
Let the words flow Like the tides of the ocean Sometimes it ebbs Other times it flows Still, a beautiful work This is what poetry has taught me Sometimes you're low Other times you're high
Slight ting from crisping golden beams, The mellow sway of palms rustles There leaves chirping Intrinsic in the forgotten hustle The sounds left beyond the tides. The oscillating sound
She is the voice who calms the waters within me. The voice who soothes the waves that are building up to that disastrous tsunami, ready to destroy anything or anyone in my path.
Confidently unthinking I walked into the shadows I thought I was Lolita, hardly, really I was callow
In the midst of it all: Part 2 In the midst of what I’ve seen over the last few days My mind can’t help but wander your way Anything could happen at anytime
In the midst of it all
I cannot act, I cannot sing But allow me to tell you what I bring An artful imagery similar to that of a painting Without the brush, no rush
It was five years ago to the day