I sit in the middle of my wild field.
Flowers growing all around.
The perfect blend of purples, yellows,greens and blues.
I smile at the sunshine,even at the rain.
In my secret safe spot,
It never feels the same.
I love the smell of fresh cut grass,
and burning wood from the night before,
the feel of the dirt on my legs.
I've never felt so at home anywhere,
and it wasnt a hard search
who would have ever thought,
my safe spot was actually a church?
Author notes
The irony of where my safe spot is.
those who knew me two or three years ago will completly understand
Comments
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Awesome
I liked this poem. It was very witty and enjoyable! keep up the good work! -
Awww very cute. I like this a lot.
~~AngieMarie
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