There are more than a thousand faults,
that I have made...

Protectively perched upon his land,
watching over the clay colored cliffs...

Running past the demons of frustration,
floating above unneeded tears...

A feeling so peculiar,
that plucks my very skin...

Dear....something,
For what people have taught me (or tried to) you...

Mind stripped of normal reactions,
and replaced with life time worries...

This place of poets,
of me and others...

Little feather glide across my skin,
fingers trace along visible ribs...

Glitters a shinin',
colors thrown wild...

Cold shivers wipe upon my shoulders,
every hour...

Reunion
Pain in the butt, yearly...

Being a child,
with adventures everyday...