Tuesday, June 25, 2013

I Know What It Is

I was made to float on rain drops.
Sit my soul on the sun.

I was made to find my path on streets of gold.
Leaving a lasting impression on each and every one.

I breathe and I inhale the sunset, tasting its color sweet on my lips.
I watch her roam and move through our happy home, thanking him for my most previous gift.

And then I pause sometimes wishing for a do over for something that happened the other day.
Snapped in my mind, then I knew that bad was the other way.

Then I chilled. Like crushed ice wearing shades looking cool to saxophone whales.
I chilled. Like sudden November days with weather acting all kinds of ways.

Then I asked myself. I made myself process what it all means. 
This poem I'm writing, this life, and the fruition of my dreams.

By nature I ponder complex answers that evolve from thought process never ending.
Then it hits me, I know what this is. So I need to stop pretending.



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