Poem -

Still Motion

Still Motion

Every word she spoke twitched at the corners of her lips.
Every expression left unanswered questions in her mind.

She always admired real beauty-so much more than make up and carefully constructed outfits.
Maybe a blessing or a perhaps a curse.

For people like her fall far and wide inbetween.
A small, unappreciated woman; perhaps overlooked; searching for these unnoticed gold coins amongst the silver dollars of this town.

She was simply a drop of rain falling in still-motion to the earth, connecting to others in freefall.
As she hit the ground they break apart and she's become something different; someone strong and well composed.

For that she is grateful... though it might never be enough.

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Comments

author
A Lonely Journey

Reckless One, 
What a beautiful, wonderful write. 
I like the way you think...in this odd thinking world. You think about things as they should be. 
Great job. 

Matthew. 

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