Spinning On Tiptoes

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The sky listens in silence
Waiting, upon the nothing
For the song never sung
In the mirror always cracked
For poems unending rhyme
In the blackness of the dark

Spinning on tiptoes
Never falling, always wandering
In this mystic world
Among the dragons, stars and unicorns
Where the sharpest roses grow

Words are silent
Days are worn as dreams
And in the in between
I tiptoe between Fairy Tales
Not knowing why or where
I am going or will I fall?

 

Posted by

Not much to tell, antisocial, bipolar, loner, poet. That's me in 4 word's.

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