RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Wandering around, doing nothing, traveling from one poem to another with someone in mind.
Getting blended into poetry of melting ice, taking pictures of it's demise through words of strife.
Mind-bending thoughts stressing how short life has become.
Taking time and wrapping it in a coffin of disuse.
Clouded by the distinction of youth with it's strident tension, I reverse direction and follow my own ideals into infinity, hoping never to look back on earth.
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