15 Nov 2014
Sitting on the back porch looking over all the houses and the terrible town; the hills roll over each other dotted in trees and the lone cloud hovering above that distant freedom of the countryside is me. I'm not threatening nor demanding just blending. A small white cloud amongst the vast blue of your eyes.
I wonder if I am the only flower in your garden, the only cloud in your sky, the only person in your eyes. But I only know as much as you tell me and my brain believes everything you say. I just hope that there isn't another cloud in-purifying your perfect blue hidden behind a building or some trees of your lies.
YOU ARE READING
The recollection of my misunderstood thoughts.
PoetryLife's a struggle and it's hard. There's nothing you can do. Just get trough it. I hate my life. There's nothing new. But when the sun is out and the sky is void of clouds you can't help but feel a smile is overdue
