tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28139888830881523492011-09-26T11:05:49.899-07:00MBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17551632850991545112noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813988883088152349.post-12994715785282108262007-09-20T06:54:00.002-07:002007-09-20T09:02:39.908-07:00Silent,<br />Hushed<br /><br />I acknowledge losing in this life. <br /><br />Not in a competition or a fight <br />But by having watched the tornado of your rage, <br />But by having witnessed the whirlpool of your sadness <br /><br />Silent<br />Silent<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2813988883088152349-1299471578528210826?l=stapletrees.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17551632850991545112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813988883088152349.post-34258765671993020952007-09-20T06:54:00.001-07:002007-09-20T06:54:40.604-07:00My head sunken deep in the pillow of clouds <br />My Body succumbed to the cool mattress of the sky<br />I think to my self<br /> How will this story end?<br /><br />And the wind of sleep whisks me away<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2813988883088152349-3425876567199302095?l=stapletrees.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17551632850991545112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813988883088152349.post-34429161799197595652007-09-20T06:53:00.001-07:002007-09-20T06:53:58.672-07:00I have seen hands as small as sparrows<br /> and as big as a canary’s song<br />I’ve seen hearts as soft as paper flowers<br /> and as big as sunflowers<br /><br />In this time of barren thoughts<br />I await the caress of a bird’s feather<br />so that perhaps the flowerpot of my heart will bloom<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2813988883088152349-3442916179919759565?l=stapletrees.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17551632850991545112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2813988883088152349.post-64820991462144307202007-09-19T20:02:00.000-07:002007-09-20T12:01:09.791-07:00I paint the classroom walls in white<br /> and get a beautiful tan on my soul<br /><br />I put a piece of my heart in each grocery bag that I pack<br /> so when I pass through the streets of this town <br /> I can hear my own heart beat from kitchen windows<br /> and I don't feel like a stranger anymore<br /><br />I play bingo and have lunch with old ladies<br /> thinking may be half way around the world<br /> someone will add a bit of color to my mom's lonely days<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2813988883088152349-6482099146214430720?l=stapletrees.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17551632850991545112noreply@blogger.com0