And I danced.
My hair whipped, sticking to my sweat-coated back.
The music's beat rung in my ears and I moved all the muscles in my body at once.
I could feel it in my finger tips, this enthusiasm, so eager to get it all out.
I was crying, and laughing and breathing heavily.
Around and around and around and around.
Spinning, not stopping, never stopping, infinitely spinning.
Dizzy and dazed, hot and crazed
I had no knowledge, I had no thoughts, I had no entity.
I was just being me.
YOU ARE READING
They will be missed
PoetrySome die Some starve Some cry Most cut And they will be missed Some are alone Some are lost in a crowd Some yell out and moan Most do not voice their troubles aloud And they will be missed #1 Poetry #2 Random
