I Am

Please read the amazing poetry of a talented writer.


I am a city.

A tall silhouette filled with tiny windows

and the intensity of eight million fluttering hearts.

A solid tower of delicate glass,

I am drenched in constant reflection.

I am a blank page,

crisp and sterile

without lines to lead the way.

I am on my own

waiting to be created.

I am an ocean.

I am a sea with endless horizon.

I can swell with the rage of a thousand warships

or ripple with the toss of a single stone.

I am the wind.

I am free to roam

country and sky.

I can move the mountains

little by little,

crumb by crumb.

I am a tree.

Tall and strong.




I am a graveyard.

Still and internal,

I am covered in dread

and filled with peace.

I am a church.

I have open arms

and the quiet solitude

that accompanies great guilt.


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