PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

one, two, three

I can see through what is in front of me

I could write untill I cried my eyes dry

I could talk untill my tongue got caught into a tie

I could jump untill my feet flew off

And then I would soar in the sky

I could dance untill my toes began to bleed

I could sing untill my thoat was torn

But still

I lay here in my only presence and think

Why Am I laying here?