A single drop in a thousand
and truly we are like water
Which rushes in a single voice
Which flows as one
as we do
for we cry out in one voice
for one pain
A life lost
[Mario L. Santoro,
Leonard W. Hatton Jr.,
Keith George Farben]
is only one drop falling
into the deep unknown
An falling to a depth
where none can see it
the drop reaches
a paradise of heaven
We love with our minds
and our hopes fall to the depths
I wish to sip the cool sweet water
On that street
Somewhere between 140th and 160th
He was on the sidewalk.
West Harlem
and a shoe shop
washing the windows with a dirty rag.
A pink sneaker and a red sneaker
He thought of his beating heart
Like the pumping of a ball on a court
Thump
Thump
And the swishing of the rag
washing, washing away
the dirt of a New York street
cabs and passion
and the clicking of high heels
and all the gum stuck down like the horizon to the treetops
He says
I ain’t got a place to be but here
and if I can’t see through this here window
I can’t see nothing at all
“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote, To travel is to live.” -Hans Christian Anderson
Writing is about freedom and expressing yourself; allowing yourself find your own voice. Here is my attempt at discovering myself through my own writing.
"All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know." - Ernest Hemingway
ull new transflations -- Rosetta Stone hypothoses
One True Sentence 