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My Heart beats
Blood circulates throughout
Cleanses the brain
Without strain, properly functions
Thoughts travel through
The sensors of my mind
So therefore I am
I rest not, With restless sleep
Urinate at shorter intervals
That's neither here
I sit lumbering deep
Into a chair
I ache and strain
To extract myself from there
Ankles and wrist swollen
Constantly alerting my mind
Rain falls, from heavenly pours
Winds blowing storms of fire
Lit embers, fly like fowls
From blue skies
Landing on roof tops
Fires stirs, from crawling ashes.
Huge swirls, like red tornados
Suck the air, Fueling the hell
Wet hill sides, soaked to the plates
Slides of land
'Neath, the quick moving Earth
Like oceans of pine
Where there was
There no longer is
Lives buried, deep in mud
A Nature's open grave
Of loosen Earth.
By: William Bonilla
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|Reviewed by Phyllis Jean Green
|Thoughtful, deep and imagistic. . .t h i n k that's
a word:). Thanks for posting this. 'Pea'
|Reviewed by Carole Mathys
|William, a exceptional, powerful write...
your muse is in rare form, my friend...keep up the outstanding work..
Peace and love,
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Most powerful write William!!
|Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
|Oh yes I agree with Andy and darn it when they beat me to it.|
|Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
|I wonder what the Queens toilet is like? Must be the royal throne..
Like how this builds up, with its mind pictures...
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Powerful write William! Better get back to Fla
the Catskills are too cold right now. Fantastic