They say that it has been ten years to the day
Since she first disappeared from sight,
She packed up her best intentions
and just ran out into the night
That the pine trees on the hillside
Could still hear them calling out her name,
and the wind whistles with woe
Simply trying to find somebody to blame.
But despite its howling fury
There is nobody here at fault,
For the world was just a piece
Inside of her restless souls' revolt.
And just as you cannot define the ocean
By the parts that reach the sand,
Perhaps she was so much deeper
Than our minds are able to fully even understand.
So legend tells the story
Of how the girl left no trace at all to track,
That she escaped this bitter earth
Across the silver moonbeams' back.
But if you ever wake up in the middle of the night
to moonlight splashed across your face,
Is is probably just her hand reaching for yours
Her very own cosmic embrace.
Crystal K. Floyd
February 15, 2020
crystalshealingjourney
 1500
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She is still alive to this day
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erotic
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COMMENTS
love_supreme says: Excellent write. |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY crystalshealingjourney
Tweeking and GeekingThe end of the road is finally near. How did it all start? I’m not quite clear. Did I call my friends or did they call me? Did I have to pay money or did I get it for free? I think it was Sunday we started our buzz. A big fat fifty for me and my Cuz. He [cook/dealer] said it was awesome, he called it “the fire.†I know this guy well and he is no liar. A brand new Bic lighter is a useful tool. A straw or a pen and, of course, aluminum foil. I mold my foil, it’s now called a boat. I hold it real steady as I pour on the dope. The foil now heated from my brand new Bic. I heat it real slow, not to burn it too quick. The dope is now melting, it’s a beautiful sight. With the straw in my mouth to catch the smoke just right. Holding the boat steady at just the right slant. I hit it real hard, now hear comes the pant. Now exhaling the smoke, I can’t help but smile. I haven’t seen dope this ...  |
She is still alive to this dayThey say that it has been ten years to the day Since she first disappeared from sight, She packed up her best intentions and just ran out into the night That the pine trees on the hillside Could still hear them calling out her name, and the wind whistles with woe Simply trying to find somebody to blame. But despite its howling fury There is nobody here at fault, For the world was just a piece Inside of her restless souls' revolt. And just as you cannot define the ocean By the parts that reach the sand, Perhaps she was so much deeper Than our minds are able to fully even understand. So legend tells the story Of how the girl left no trace at all to track, That she escaped this bitter earth Across the silver moonbeams' back. But if you ever wake up in the middle of the night to moonlight splashed across your face, Is is probably just her hand reaching for yours Her very own cosmic embrace. Crystal K. Floy... |
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