Scrutiny
By atia
I walk out of the building And head towards the car. Ofcourse it's waiting there, Like it always is. The icy ground crunches, Unlike when it was snowing And felt like slush. Now I won't slip. Just a little chill Penetrates my coat, enough to make it feel like winter. Dark hair flies, Feels nice around my face. It hasn't been black since that summer When I was out in the sun too long, But I always wished for brown hair. Now it is, Only if looked at hard enough. It's some unknown shade from the distance. Is this how thoughts shall come and go? A new one everytime I walk this path Not dreaming, just smiling Tearing the world to bits For the sake of better understanding...This one is for my analysis of every little thing... Written January 8th, 2002 © on Jan 08 2002 01:33 PM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"I walk out of the building..."