Dexsta Ray

Gold Star - 14,117 Points (March 8,1994 -)

The Perennials - Poem by Dexsta Ray

From childhood to smiles, stood
Dead stop
Imagined dreams
Still appear
From time to time
Like them machines with the clear plastic things with red tops
Asking for a quarter, haha
But 'tis, it's misery
Really, it's the floor or the ceiling
Or the door
The perennials will find it
If resigning
From the normal, the perennials are timeless
To incline us, binding many
Many strings tied to many leaves
Witness many trees
Deep in the
Eye the trife lie in wait, light might escape
But what's the point?
If the writes might decay, like time
Fine, hickory,
Apple wood, oak, and various others
Fire, strike a fume
Mind consume, kind resumes, I'm the blue
Take before
Wishing all the thoughts were as smooth
Like these other poets
Living in another
Scripting in a color chord, fond memories
And nostalgic writings
Finding Northern Lights, beauty in the sky that forms
Never could imagine it was poisonous
With gases
That's the atmospheric
Eerie, bleary, dreary, hearing nearly
Hope is getting roped…
Count on the perennials, the heros in the children's visions
Whether it's the right kind, whether it's the light
Down fell the space rock
Making ripples throughout the earth
Learning that the Genesis
Redo the first
All the largest lizards, meeting fate, are now removed from dirt
Courtesy of satan, trying to take his wasn't due
He's cursed
I'm looking at the sun through
The blinds, through the trees, cool, a silhouette
Still affects the time
I feel…
If I have a youngster, running 'round the constant juncture
I ain't see, taking me, from positions to
Uphold, in the case
The perennials, to frame and keep the posture, so to stand
Every single youngster need his father
Leading proper
Be the way, perennials, and clouds, giving up their rain
By the pitter patter, music, oozing

Topic(s) of this poem: truth

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 10, 2015

Poem Edited: Thursday, September 10, 2015

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