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Submitted:Aug 11, 2008 Reads: 111 Comments: 6 Likes: 3
What shall we speak of
Many things
Art is transportation...inward
We must contemplate all things
We must experience all things
There is no truth
Only possibilties in this moment
Only ten dimensions
Plus time
Which is a dimension in itself
More than enough for a centipede to trek
And yet I still feel claustrophobic
And weighted down
Let's get lifted
Give me your hand
Let's take a walk
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Other writing by devilrod And That Is Forever Just Another Day I See Pearls Birds At Breakfast Dark River Changing Lanes
Poetry, Poem, Life, Death, Pain, Sad, About, Heart, Hurt, Depression, Hate, Hope, Romance, Sadness, Dark, Loss, Lost, God, My, You, Girl, Alone, Broken, Suicide, Me, Fear, Friendship, Time, Nature, Friends, Anger, Joy, Tears, Family, Dream