Crossed legged, arms slumped vertically without any lead inside.

ERose

Well-known member
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Crossed legged, arms slumped vertically without any lead inside, still. I sat at the foreground of my surroundings, listening, smelling, and feeling every single possibility happening behind me.
If I were to turn my stiffened yet powerless body around right now, just slightly to the left a little, would everything really be the same as it was?

I hear the growth of the floral tendrils as they climb the hollow bodies of our oxygen’s ancestors.
I smell the scent of rain, the rain that has fallen carelessly through our self-inflicted, wounded and polluted skies.
I feel the world; I feel the world spinning as it is supposed to. By every breath we take there is a slight movement.
I feel the breeze, the breeze that carries our wasted words, our wasted thoughts, and our wasted attempts.

I feel it all, as I’m sat in the foreground of my surroundings, I realise how different this story will be if I were to come back tomorrow or yesterday.
Crossed legged, arms slumped vertically without any lead inside.​
 

twiggle

Well-known member
Wow!
You are a really good poet.
And I love that photograph - London? I love the colouring.
 
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