Stuck In The Wind Poem by Ann McKinley

When the wind blows I curl my toes

and wait for the breeze to tickle my nose

It flys by my ears and I hear it moaning

It sounds so lonely

I picture myself surronded in trees

Hearing the soft whisper of her voice

go through my ears

I pictured what she looked like

this troubled soul

who makes the wind blow

I picture us best friends

Ruling as the voice that the wind throws

Standing in your weather

Makes my troubles seem better

because you take them all away

with closed eyes I draw you in

while hearing every despreat cry

I wish I could help you

you poor soul stuck in the wind