Music was a shelter...A Poem by Firestone Feinbergb’’h 4/3/12 Music was a shelter. Long I hid within it. And it protected me. Painting was a pastime. Color became escape. It allowed me to run. Poetry is a bird. It twists in the air and Laughs at me from the sky. Why I play with Words -- I can’t tell you. I guess They are something of a cure.
© 2013 Firestone FeinbergReviews
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6 Reviews Added on March 4, 2013 Last Updated on March 4, 2013 Author |