When a child
reaches for the sky
arms spread without conviction,
simple pleasure,
a naivety is desire
we clap our hands
allow the momentum of innocence
might prosper toward a freedom
in idyllic tones.
(part 2)
I'm a teacher, again
To me writing is currently a release. I haven't quite decided to what degree it is I'm searching within my words, yet, I feel something matters somewhere, right?
