Sitting here

in poem •  7 years ago 

It’s quiet hear ... Soul free from fear. The wind blows lightly. Sun shines brightly. Sleepy thoughts. An elder white man takes a walk. Pink coat purse in hand. Gravel instead of white sand. Sky Blue eyes I saw his Soul. Copper rings until I can afford gold. Today I walked past a dead body. October’s for witches and fairies that are naughty. Dust blows gravel on my face. Time is still my past is erased.

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