I speak of freedom
though more is told
by these heavy shackles
I choose to hold
the spring is fleeting
this spring is cryingI speak of faith
but who am I
I cannot feel the clouds
nor reach the sky
the spring is running
this spring is dyingI speak of truth
it flees my skin
my own words shall choke me
I cannot win
the spring is burning
this spring is flyingthis spring has flown
this winter, mine own
YOU ARE READING
life [poetry]
Poetrybit of a stretch to call this poetry and had i not written it i'd probably hate it but who am i kidding i hate it anyway but its a creative outlet so might upload some photography too because im just wild