The fountain is dry
Water fails to trickle from
Concentric Circles
The world is awake
Red-cheeked and dehydrated
Slow down for awhile
The palm trees are still
Staying cool in humid air
Planted, immobile
A boy I know sits
Pondering this world's facade
Something lies deeper
The sun is not high
It scorches epidermis
What power it holds
1 comment:
beautiful poems
i read every single post
but she does not know.
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