bridges, thorns, cedars.

Bridges form on ink-stained pages
The thoughts, ideas, contemplative existence of a burgeoning child
Walking streets of frenetic souls and dis-ease
She dances through the mire
She buds, blossoms, and dies
Splintered with acrid thorns
Yet! blooms turn
Forests of opportunity
Rise like cedars between the pages

I wrote this poem for my application to NYU. I guess it worked.


2 responses to “bridges, thorns, cedars.

  1. Hi!
    I got here because I was searching for the image of a Monet I was looking for while working on my story. I was pleasantly surprised to find a bunch of other paintings, music and writing that I really liked.
    Merci:) You kinda made my day, really.

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