And the mountains stood up
and the trees did bloom
and color redefined itself
rivers cracked open their bleary eyes
and the ocean stretched her legs
the earth did sigh and sighed again
and the cliffs relaxed their stony faces.
They stopped and stared
at the wonders before them
they call these creatures inanimate
oblivious
they marvel at their growth
yet thinking not why
rather standing glassy eyed
when their faults led them to be locked
and put away
their world begins to breathe.
With the curtains thrown wide
we see the world gray
and we know it's the fault of our own
Spent far too long
bearing crown, sword, and shield
I write in pen
to get comfortable with my mistakes
to catch all my thoughts
scatterbrained
and fleeting
pens scratch the itch to write
better than any graphite
the use of ink before pencils
I never thought I'd be 16
nor thought the grass would still be green.
At 5 I met my oldest friends
who I still talk to now and then.
At 6 and 7, all through 10
Nostalgic blurs remain of them.
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