Walking
Walking, takes my mind off pain,the sunlight glints,
there is me squinting,
I hide behind dark glasses,
thinking, 'all is well',
a mantra I have adopted,
that and 'lucky boys'.
I feel cluttered
deep and dark
and in myself,
I wait for waves,
just to shave a second
and then, I want
them back, intact
all my treasure in chests
that I keep at the
end of my bed.
Hard to explain,
walking is mediation
between me and who I am.
On such beautiful days as these
I take pain to places
that even tears can't erase.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2013-06-25 at 20:38
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NicholasG |
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by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
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