'finding peace' together
Learn more about other poetry terms
Teetering on the edge, knuckles white
Mind racing, why am I here? spiraling
What can I hold? Or what can hold me?
How can it all somehow turn out right?
I am poetry.
My back is the spine.
My arms turn into the cover.
My fingers smooth into pages.
The prints printed on my thumbs bleed words.
Leaves fall off into the world below
Like how raindrops kiss the pavement and asphalt
Leaving a trail of existence that will soon disperse
The world is full of a wide spectrum of color frequencies
I am the yellow sun, the blue sky, the green grass,
the orange to yo kool-aid, and the gold beads from Mardi Gras.
Humanity used to be beautiful,But it is poisoned by sin.Hate grows as Man lets it sprout,It causes hurt, suffering, and deathStop this deadly disease
For the People of the World.
