3rd Rock Me
this world, so torn from hate
reminds me of my soul
my hemispheres debate
my heart like burning coals
my moves are precounted
and travel the same path
im always surrounded
by others, do the math...
my surface has beauty
my hardest points shift slow
shape my children... truely
when i get mad, i blow
i stay around my family
outsiders come and go
mostly made of water
much deeper then you know
i see all these details
and thru them, i survive
so can i tip the scales
and say that its alive?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
