This is about a girl who is drawing a picture. She...

Deep within the forests of precious time,
A child sits, absorbed within his play...

A sweet sound is heard in the air,
What's this delicate sound, what could it be...

Piercing through forbidding skies,
Hope prevails, an interest to eyes...

Precious toys dancing on one floor of tile,
Twirl, twirl, dance, dance, as fast as you can...

Floating calmly from clouds in the sky,
They die - their essence covers all...

And I'm just not sure where I stand on this one...

This is actually a venting poem.. So, it's not my...

I hope this makes sense... It just came out...

This is just one of those odd poems that come out...

Grasping in tales of forgotten woes,
Memories stand, they tire...

Gold eyes stare rounded from a face above
Bold are the caressing words that leave...