Thursday, June 7, 2012

Poem

The swish of a brush
The splatter of blood.
we will miss it
Until it comes

When everything is gone
We will remember
The lasting love of
The Re-Birth.

Flowing together
Everything is one.
The Renaissance
It's perfect.
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1 comment:

  1. Mr. FoxJune 7, 2012 at 1:44 PM

    Because of your great mix of imagery, I appreciate the beauty of this poem.

    ReplyDelete

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