Thursday, September 10, 2009

Grandma's pies

As I walk outside
The sunlight floods my eyes
The birds are chirping
I can smell my grandma's pies
Those smell so good!
No,wait they are lies
She's no longer baking
Because everyone dies

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for the nice comment. Most of my poetry is real stuff. Other times, I don't know what sparks my ideas. Though I have found that good photography always helps. I have an obsession of keeping up to date with a site called ffffound.com. There are always intriguing images that spark creativity. Sometimes I can write a poem down and the second I'm done, don't want to touch it anymore. Other times, it takes a few drafts to say what I want. "Silent" was one of those.

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