Monday, December 5, 2011

Wild Soul

The grey clouds snarl and spit rain at me

Keep me grounded, I'm a kite whipping around in the ocean winds

Tug on my line as I try to escape.

I need my thoughts to be strong right now

But I need my words to be even stronger

You let the river dry up a long time ago and all that's left is a rock bed and now you have to sleep in it

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