Fleeting Stories

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Not the sun in fierce, beating beauty;Not the cloud with shining essence,Laced from within with theSouls of the stars;Not the deep heavens of azure and indigo,Nor the silver jewels of the raining skies,Nor the bend of prismed angel wings over the mother's curve.I am the shadow of the cloud,Rushing, sliding phantom of darknessOn...

I can’t describe the feelingOf being number oneI wasn’t there - quite long enoughTo realize the funI’ve tried to play it cool beforeAnd tried to be myselfBut every time - I find that I’veBeen placed upon some shelfI wasn’t played nor led uponI wasn’t pushed nor shovedI know I was - but am not nowVery simply loved