I belong in the sky, where stars like you, dwell,
Not this back hole, where my halo fell.
Often I dream of the man who couldn't be,
Then wake to flee, yet no escape, his reflection stares back, mocking me.
tattooed tears, run down my cheeks, into ponds of ink,
Who drills the wells hopes and dreams are placed to sink?
On this canoe, I've fashioned through love and care,
I place my heart to paddle this river, solo, bare.
what rapids await in
challenge, seldomly, before hand, is display,
All rivers relieve, waterfalls, all lives, row to dock
At "Heavens Bay".
See all poetry for Joshua Rosales #G32816