My breathing is shallow Curtailed by anxious imaginings. All I can see, From where I sit, Are trees and flowers, And I hear birds chirping, Breaking the silence, But not the angst In my clenched fist. Or the trepidation Of… Read More ›
My breathing is shallow Curtailed by anxious imaginings. All I can see, From where I sit, Are trees and flowers, And I hear birds chirping, Breaking the silence, But not the angst In my clenched fist. Or the trepidation Of… Read More ›