What is it, This cry within me? That never rests. That aches and pulls, That burning desire, To Run. To become one
By Birdie3 years ago in Poets
Everyone has something to say And at the end of the day There are thousands of voices in my brain I get so tired of looking at the world
By Birdie4 years ago in Poets
Classic, I overthink From every angle Am I close to the answers? Or the brink Ah see this is But another
I watch the shadows fall, And In the darkest of them all, Sits a child waif-like, small Beneath the hemlock towering tall.