Friday, June 19, 2015


One after another pops up
Stifling, stifled, losing it’s form
Of existence, belief, faith and doubt

Their ears can’t hear
The thousand voices in their heads
The eyes cant see
For they are blind to the light around

Ripples are identified
The horizon in distance
Too far to walk or swim
The birds fly away
To homes they built together

Here the pieces are broken
Waiting to be born, to form


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