Rocco Dominic Poems

The bustle of the city.
Slow, a city sunrise, before the rainbow comes out.
Different colors bursting into view, walking along side you.
All different colors. Diversity.
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Transformation of the Heart
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As I lay down in my comfortable bed
I throw the covers over my head.
I think of what is and is not
As well as things that should be forgot.
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I wish to write something beautiful, but alas I can't today.
I sit inside this lonely house, day by day by day.

These walls are my prison, my tics are my chains.
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