The Veiw

Every time we speak it's like being inside a cyclone of different puppeteers pulling at your strings but it's only a question. To you I was the reminder of an apehere's of a constant complication not worth your time the grass plane on the other was a greatly greener side you cared not to see any of those things others saw in me. I am the joys of my emotions,  the smiles painted on the faces of those who choose to stay around after the storm, passing by the endless signs I post to warn. I'll be everything you ask of me even if it is nothing at all but splatters of paint you throw on a naked wall

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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Thu 22nd Dec 2016 16:37

we loved this poem Leigh-very much indeed!

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