We were talking in my dream, brown eyed girl and I. Suddenly, I realized the change that had occurred. Her eyes weren't brown anymore; they were dark gold, shadowed amber, the color of fresh earth and bare trees. I became ashamed and apologized for my previous judgments. I don't remember what we said after that, but I do remember thinking that the only thing more dazzling than her eyes was her smile.
This is more like a poetry prose crossover baby thing. Or just prose.
I did have this dream, and I did wake up ashamed of myself.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
No comments:
Post a Comment