PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thought,

Burning in your identity,

And

Wonders of your stability,



you made me,

forget some tracks of sand in my footsteps.

Went thru.



My aims,



My astray,





And,

My perch,

and

My stability,





In my sights and my hearing ability,

In my dismissing

In my…all…?

Of me





From witch tree you came?

From witch field comes the black gold,





And

shined among days,

and lightened out the floor.

Your

welcome any time,

its your home





Window you entered from,

and

sat on my desk,

Like the bird,

Lead by the longing,





You landed,

with no attention,

and

no look is paid,





Reminding me,

of every little pit,





the forgetting of my footsteps,

My aims,



My astray,



And,



My perch,



sights and my hearing ability,

and,

In my dismissing

In my…all…?

Of me





paying it to your goodness,

Without you being near,





Thought,

Burning in your identity,





Forgive the heart

and the soul

and came to me for you,



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Sun of Sa