After years of being a closet writer, my poems started to tell me they wanted to get out more . I have a roving rambling heart myself so I completely understand . Happy travels .

Thursday, March 19, 1998


Give me the window seat
So that I can play pretend with space
And not see hope's face
Be so blurred by the day
Let's find me the place
I've been hiding my strength
And go, in glory, to sleep for the night
Because time is not so mighty, 
And we just use it to move on,
Every minute of survival
Is as important as it is long.

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