Days Of My Life
Running through the medows, the oceans, the streams Above on the mountain, sits a white pool of mist Forming the shape that my life has taken From first to last day For now, I'm a ghost Upon a ship Which drowned in the sea, When we went through the white mist But now I'm a bird flying up up up and away Flying through clouds that aweight me. the clouds hold secrets, petafiying and terrorizing horrors. that will never leave, just vanish. Now you have seen, The days of my life.I wrote this poem about me because I thought, since I'm new, you should know about me... Written November 23rd, 2001 © on Nov 23 2001 04:37 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"Running through the medows, the oceans, the streams..."