i played like a child.
sliding and climbing this rainbow,
afraid to fall at the end of this rainbow,
i will always stop before i reach the cloud.
it is the dead end.
but one day,
i got tired,
and let myself fall.
down on the clouds below
below,
i looked around,
a big pot of gold.
they are not coins nor gold bars.
they're the people of my kind.
my friends i almost forgotten
along the journey
i go back,
and i'll never fail to recall.
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __
