Days Come By

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An original poem:


 


Days come by


Feeling wasted and high


Senseless to the wonders


Of a Transparent sky


That holds planets that align


And drill holes in the mind


Of the whereabouts of time


The quickness of a lie


The drop of a pin


The taste of Mahogany


The smell of rain


Raptures of pain


Questions of what is humane


Will we ever really know?


Will we ever really grow?


From the drop of a pin


Or will we wilt away


With that of our kin?

Created: Feb 07, 2011

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Babbish Document Media