Monday, January 26, 2009

A thought I would try a poem...

The room I sit in is alive
It breathes so slow and silent
If you smile, it stops.


Well I am certainly not the poet I thought I could be. I have decided that Anastasia is to be a writer of poems. I am trying to be abstract with her poetry, but I feel as though I have already failed before I have started. Poetry has become an area of writing that I have ignored for a very long time. My mother used to make up poems about me. So did Scott.
My house feels damp today. It is a very strange feeling. It is probably due to the cold outside. I feel as though my house, if it were a living thing, is sick. Something is not balanced the way it should be. I am going to make it my mission of the evening to find what is not right and fix it.....

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