Toes reach the sky, though
shoes crunch on dry, thin wood chips;
I love the playground.
The blue sky salutes
My Converse as they touch it,
Making me feel free.
The swings fling me up,
Higher, higher, as I laugh---
Swinging frees my soul.
YOU ARE READING
These Insufficient Words
PoetryPoetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. -Robert Frost This is my own collection of thoughts. My own stories, through the deepest sorrow and highest peaks of happiness I've had in my rather brief life, and s...
