Joyous angel tears bouncing off streetlights
Giving color to the grass below
And giving freedom to the clouds
Soaring still yet slowing
Moving towards the beautiful sunset
Bathing my body
Darkens my skin in orange glow
In the moment....
I smiled as I saw jet black on my hands
Against suns high praise of me
This is my time....
I write this poem in the late hours of 2am
Even before the day begins
I wish to freeze my toes on melting snow
Let the rain wash my face
As I dream of my name in these big city lights
And scream in LIBERATION
SCREAM
I want everyone to hear
I'm not afraid...
My world my soul
My art my voice
My body my conscience
Sits at the edge of this windowpane
While warmth rises from the vents
And touches my chin
I wrote this poem in the late hours of 2am
Not knowing where
My next journey will begin
© 2011 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.
4 comments:
great painting of the environment, leading up to your braveheart moment there...the freedom to choose where you go next, its all up to you man...
nice new header...
Thanks dude!
I feel so uplifted! It makes me want to scream too.
Miranda<3
As a bona fide night owl, I appreciate this. Most definitely. In my life, my highest and bravest, purest and gravest moments have been in the middle of the night. I love "This is my time..."
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