escorted by beauty,
i visited grace.
who told me the story
of a wonderful place
where dreams are born boundless,
yearning to fly.
love gives them wings,
respect the sky.
i wandered and wondered
just how to find
the nest of your dreams,
so I could add mine.
away from your presence,
my lonely heart sighs.
knowing love makes you happy
or hapless, not wise.
this is the oldest poem i have. i wrote this senior year at St. John's in a creative writing class led by Bill Cooper. Bill Cooper is a badass.
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