Yellow Notebook #4

filled with air floating within
never feeling despair
everything tumbles-
some get picked up and some get up.
i used to gaze at my shoes, now i dream of the sky
you are the shooting star that ignited my life.
the lonesome piano keys
the distorted strumming, hollow beating
the sun lighting
where is our thrill?
words twisted and re-formed to suspicion
fearful of thoughts fed by thy own
frustration seeping through
hatred swallowing the burst
the crier suppressing the dreams.
empty streams, dry and disapeer
our breath becomes the waves
hands touching air
feeling thoughts unspoken
dry, moist


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