deepundergroundpoetry.com

Fleeting

I am impossible to describe with one word,
too far beyond the fake colors of
this imaginary world. I am wondering
about in circles, with a direction in my
pocket. I am the fleeting memory of
the snow, the linger of the summer,
the intelligence of the fall you know,
and the spring that lasts forever.
In the time it takes for a leaf to fall
my heart is already out the door, and
with this cold hand I feel the world
with a paint brush guiding me along.
Dreaming up new ideas, mixing them
with memories in my sleep. These
new colors don't exist to others,
no they belong only to me. The
world beyond these walls is a crumbling,
fleeting place. I am not afraid to
step into it, bringing through it
my own pace. And my colors will dye
the hearts of those who care to listen
to the song that I am playing and the
lyrics my lips are kissing. So grab
a word and let's make a song or two,
cause I am '32 flavors and then some'
according to Miss. Ani D. Well at least
I can look toward my future, knowing
exactly how I imagine the world and what
I want it to be.
Written by Cinny
Published
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