Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash
The world is moving by outside
and I am sleeping.
I feel something small shift inside,
but I am drifting...
and I walk on.
My dream is dreaming alongside
and she is dying.
Her wish is a white God-damned lie,
but not for trying...
and I walk on.
Present here with wandering mind;
the sun is shining.
My favorite pondering find
in the dark, hiding...
and I walk on.
One drop is lost among thick storms,
a drop nonetheless;
and it rained, it poured, poured, poured.
They served their purpose,
and I walk on.
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About the Creator
Sara Wynn
Poetry is my language, and Earth is my playground.
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