People Are Poetry

I want to be poetic,

Not in the sense that I want to

Write poetry.

I want to sit by a fog filled window,

With a cup of coffee,

Staring out into the rainy afternoon

Or the morning sunrise.

Not moving nor doing anything

Of consequence,

Just existing,

Breathing quietly as if I did so any

Louder I would wake the world

From its eternal slumber.

My lips,

sipping the hot liquid wrapped

Around my finger tips,

Watching the world as if it almost

Refuses to exist,

As if I am not my own,

As if I am looking at me from

The outside in,

Like a little piece of poetry.

-t.r.p.

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One thought on “People Are Poetry

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