Biography of eddie frelford
i have always been one that has drowned in words, they keep me alive and ironically afloat, yet subsequently draw me closer to death.
in all honesty, even though i write these poems, they only exist because there is a certain someone out there that makes me breathe.
were it not for their existence, i would not write poetry.
were it not for them,
there would not be me.
i thank them,
in silence and slumber.
It was supposed to be,
the prettiest day of the calendar.
An elongated, heat driven induced day.
Expectant was the sun,
peacefully opening it's warming arms amidst children's laughter.
Sentimental moments of once forgotten lovers enshrined in their own realms;
of the taste of greeness in the springtime air,
of winds that danced through the hair of free men, and women alike,