Clouds floating by
flowers face the sky
to kiss the evening rain
thoughts never spoken
and long long forgotten
the harbor of hidden dreams.
cats eyes at twilight
silence of street light
ripples in the fabric of night
upon a lonely mountain,
if it ever floated away,
wonder where the birds will go home to.
across the seas
the land beyond
the test of ambition.
seconds are counting
days are passing
for all unproven heroes.
3 comments:
mojo.. this isnt about your poem.. but we seem to be online at the same time.. and please dont become shallow..that wud be robbing the world of what little it has..
ah, i didn't read your comment in time. Ive been called shallow a few times and it bums me out cuz i have a childish expectation of myself to become perfect in every way (and failing miserably too).
Dear Shanoo, i hate to tell u this but,with all respect of a fellow blogger, i really dont want to hurt your feelings and all but that new pic is even more nightmarishly freaky than your last and im holding my hand on the screen to hide it as i type... just kidding...:). thanks.
hmm I dont believe in perfection.. (I think I should blog about it sometime).. and ppl are bound to cal u different things, its mostly what u think of urself that matters, coz people are bound to percieve u wrong time and again..I'v been called arrogant,stubborn,foni,difficult amongst other things :D
AAAAH!! hehe.. lol well I did change it for u so there u go :) I simply have 'bad' taste when it comes to art i reckon( a friend of mine calls me bowling ball,and i think this pic kinda has a lot of meaning attached to it.. the confinement the shackles u know..)
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