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My Mind: A TreeMy mind like a tree
Grasping for nourishment:
At times it would seem I had none
And no matter how much I wrung out of its branches
My only reward would be old, tired words
With little meaning left in them.
I would tire of growing
Wanting nothing more than to stay stagnant in the drying sun
Devoid of any more words
But then it would come
Something I had been so long without it seemed:
I would reach out for only a moment
To read, to watch, to listen
And my instincts, my old habits
Would kick in
I could not help but to see the words before me
On a tempting platter of silvers and golds
Gleaming with a new found beauty that none could rival
A branch would bend down in curiosity and it would begin
The clouds would form up there in their heavens
And with no regard to me, they would rain:
The books, the movies, the speeches
Would come back to me with a newfound glory
The words I had seen had become a stew pot of prose and poetry alike
My mind, the tree, would bend
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More