There she sat, by the rivers bank.
Pondering what to do next.
Gazing arcoss the raging waters, to the forest that lay across the bend.
She began to conieve a plan.
A dark and lonely forest.
Not one bird sang its hymn.
There she stood,
On the other side of the forest.
Staring at the congeration afar,
admiring the sunset.
Wishing she was part.
She awoke, in her bed.
No longer dreaming of a journey,
that she never even had.
The mornings sun a sunnder,
her dreams like the morning wind.
She took one step out of bed,
To let the real journey began.
Not so exiciting, not so mysterious but still something.
Still a journey, still a trip.
Let the voyage unravel.
Let the days commence.
She sits alone, not wanting any friends.
Considers her eduction vital, but love a simple need.
She graduates with honors, easily she succeeds.
At the end of her journey she stands alone.
No friends no family, gazing at the horzion of an untold dream.
2007-06-12
05:05:31
·
4 answers
·
asked by
Anonymous
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry