AS THE GARDEN GROWS

The ground rose, colliding

with the emotions of my steps,

railroading me through stations

of thought.

Like drums beating a steady cadence

of emotions, suggesting a direction

for desire.

Goals evaporated without explanation.

Private thoughts hide in the alleys

where dreams live long enough to take

a few breaths.

There’s fire in the creative hands

possessing a pen.

Nothing is considered too small

to make it big.

 

 

The ground rose, colliding

with the emotions of my steps,

railroading me through stations

of thought.

Like drums beating a steady cadence

of emotions, suggesting a direction

for desire.

Goals evaporated without explanation.

Private thoughts hide in the alleys

where dreams live long enough to take

a few breaths.

There’s fire in the creative hands

possessing a pen.

Nothing is considered too small

to make it big.

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