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The Poet's Writing
It's my songs, my stories, my poems... Enjoy. <3
Soul
I stand in a room,
letting my eyes wander
and senses explore.
The air in the room is chilled
as though the room were without power
for quite some time.
There are two windows
that are round,
sitting on the same wall.
In the center the room
on the cold wooden floor
sits a round mirror.
It's edge is painted black,
but flaked and scratched
and the mirror itself
has a spiderweb crack
which arcs across it.
Away from everything
sits a snow white beanbag,
in a corner by one of the round windows.
As I pad to the beanbag,
I glance out the window
and see a storm rolling forth from the distance.
I close my eyes
and drop down into the beanbag,
listening to my body settle
and give a contented sigh.
Welcome to the room of my soul.





Tiny Little Poet
Community Member
Tiny Little Poet
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