Spitting Fire

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  • Emotional

    Spitting Fire

    Here stands a willow that has weeped for too long. Scared from those who carved there name. Just to make themselfs feel a little special.
    His branches wrap around me transforming into arms.
    i find myself lost,
    lost in his trance.
    I open my eyes, to see his beautiful blue eyes peering back at me. Hiding inside his eyes
    lies pain that others has passed on, yet his eyes are as gental as the day he was born.
    My body grows warmer with each moment where together, the world melts; a new world emerges just for us.
    His kisses are like an evening mist on a hot day. His words are as soothing as a gental wind blowing through an open feild.
    No longer feeling the pain from those who have scared him
    freedom dances around us
    whispering in out ears
    I wasn't searching for this,I stopped caring a long time ago, yet here we are lost in each others eyes.

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    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

    honeysuckel’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Black Mirror 0
    Narration, a dangerous game 0
    Waiting River 0
    The Truth 0
    Peggy 0
    First Aid 0
    Jewel 1
    Safe 0
    No Meaning -1
    Spitting Fire 0