Poems from yeah
Field.
We are but children living in a field of dreams.
Waiting.
Watching.
Trying to grasp one of the dreams that are always just out...
Field.
We are but children living in a field of dreams.
Waiting.
Watching.
Trying to grasp one of the dreams that are always just out...
Inhale.
Chest crushing lungs.
Trust being pushed.
Exhale.
Chest releasing its grip, but still holding on ever so slightly.
Trust standing...
When she flies.
When she lights up.
Heart soaring,
people bright,
this is the feeling of flight.
I cannot explain much,
there is no...
Slip.
Trip.
Stumble.
Fall.
Slipping on tears.
Tripping on fears.
Stumble on life.
Fall with strife.
Slip.
Trip.
Stumble.
Fall.
...