Truth and lies

Our feelings are butterflies 

They listen to the rain

Our hearts are rivers

 but rivers are liars

Our eyes are lights

They feel in the dark

Our lungs are mountains

They get caught in the sky

Our hands are like teachers 

They can go many ways 

Our people are blood

Their red like truth.

 

More by Anonymous

  • By Anonymous

    bloom

    on my bedroom dresser,
    demise blooms from cracked petals and dried stems,
    rubbing against a dusty glass vase. 

    each flower once flourishing and loved--
    only to be hung upside down,
    and left to die in a dank closet. 
  • Poetry

    By Anonymous

    turn my swag on

    Live, Laugh, Love.
    The beautiful flowers of earth sprout from the seeded soil,
    The trees blow back and fourth with the rythem of the wind,
    the ocean swells into giant pool along the rock cliffs of life,