My life is a color carpet

a carpet of Experiences

each strand tells a story

and each story, a million thoughts.

I weave a strand too tight and it snaps

i weave it too loose and it falls apart

but i know, sometimes,

to hold the colour, some strands

need to snap, some need to fall.

Tomorrows fade in quickly;

i haven’t the time to correct today.

thoughts flow in

before i can Forget the now.

my Dreams, my Love, my Being

Spring is here.

1 July 2008

VN:F [1.9.20_1166]
Rating: 7.7/10 (3 votes cast)
Metamorph, 7.7 out of 10 based on 3 ratings

enjoyed this post? share with others:

twitter stumble upon digg

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 8th, 2009 at 2:02 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

leave a comment