Letting Thing Flow.
I'm sitting here,
seeing things flow
under the weeping willow.
I hear the birds up high
and dream that I
could fly so free.
I'm enjoying the sun,
beleiving I'm the only one
and drifting away in my thoughts.
The weeping willow keeps me safe
and hides me from the nosey people.
I have pen and paper
to just letting go
of all the strain in my life.
I'm sitting here seeing,
letting things pass me by.
I have no wish to get up and go
no doubt in this show
no wish to join the rat race
no will to at all.
No worries to make money,
no need to feed
the fat cats at all.
Just to sit
under the weeping willow
and let things flow.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Letting Thing Flow. by maria goodison )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Opportune Moments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- OVER THE HARD ROCK OF SUICIDE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Yesterday's Emotions, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Someone's History, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- On a Love Train, Tosin Abegunde
- A Happy Song, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- The silent sufferer, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- A Desert Oasis, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- I COUNT FROM ONE TO TWENTY EASILY, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Velvet Moon, Lilly Emery