~beings of dust, gas, and ice~
An explosion of light,
born from stardust,
we walk on our "perfectly created" home
as time drags on
we slowly get closer to our mother-
until really, there is no mother
or her children at all
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
neinborn’s Poems (4)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| ~Two Paths~ | 0 | 05/29/2009 |
| ~Have you ever?~ | 0 | 05/29/2009 |
| ~The Death of a Fallen Angel~ | 0 | 05/29/2009 |
| ~beings of dust, gas, and ice~ | 0 | 05/29/2009 |
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