Breathe
A draft is temporary, Breath is permanent
A breeze is seasonal, asthma, hereditary
We do not get to choose what gas we breathe, nor do we get to choose who's eternity we get to sheathe
But when that breath of fresh air hits, your heart begins to wreathe
To go from being obliviously breathless,
To mindlessly relentless, to catch your breath,
can leave you satisfied or make you feel quite reckless.
Is to love, to self-serve?
Is it better to just observe?
One thing is certain,
All of us need a breath of fresh air or fate will close the curtain.
-Oliver Purnell
YOU ARE READING
A Prolific Poem Anthology
Poetry15 poems written across almost 2 years with a wide variety of style and emotion. Each poem is unique and were written at points across these two years where I felt enough emotion to condense and organise into poems good enough for people to enjoy an...
