Farm Chores on a Winter Night
A quick inhale Results in a sharp gasp for air As the cold hits you. Wind and snow blisters Your red face and cracked hands. And yet, you still find it beautiful, Memorable. Away from all the lights And headaches and engines, and fumes. The people, the sidewalks, the stores. This is worth busting your ass Every morning, every night. Just for a chance To Feel this
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LiveFast
I'm 17 years old, I love to snowboard and skateboard. My favorite poet is Charles Bukowski, because of his blunt, emotional poems (No beatin' round the bush with him). I got into poetry when I was 13 years old, when my grandmother passed away. She...
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