I looked into the eyes of a small child
A child that had probably seen the face of God
And walked through hell barefoot
The child stared on at the orchestra with a stone-hard gaze
Unmoving, unblinking, not flinching in the slightest
At the sounds of crashing cymbals and screaming trumpets and piccolos
The child's calm state in the midst of all the noise surprised me
They didn't meet my eyes, but as I got a look at theirs,
I knew that this was a child I should fear.
A/N: Heckity heck this is the last poem of this book! Wow! (Is this sort of a weird poem to end it on? Idk lol) Thanks to all the peeps who've read and voted. I'll have another poetry book posted sometime in the next few weeks, not sure exactly when. Pretty soon, probably. Well, with that being said, I have one more thing to write before I never write anything in this book again:
Y
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YOU ARE READING
Swoosh - a book of breezy poetry
PoetrySome of the least poetic poems you'll ever read, written by, you guessed it, me! These are some thoughts and feelings that I tried to put into words. I started writing poetry regularly back in January, so the poems in this book kind of tell the stor...
