The ConversationA Poem by TyMagic In Words. The Conversation.I wouldn't have any doubts About the amount of water fountains sprout, That come flooding, Spouting out, Running in, But then again I sat outside for hours In-fact I'd leave real soon Hums and humble tunes The chatter cleverly inhaled me This once, Not feeling Icelandic, Isolated Or cold in an icy state Explicit in nature Infatuation with the acoustic on the corner The conversation You coped And opened up a bit A French roll of the tongue Amongst soul and drums I asked if your heart roams Do you give up, If you felt alone among galaxies and coral reefs If your foundation is cement, bedrock, or stone Only to find yourself in imitation, Quikrete Tumbleweed, Drifted aimlessly In hopes you'd find a place on the mantle Solace restored Rooted Resides, In hopes it might bring you back home I'd compose orchestras of cellos, And saxophone ridden harmonies, To guide path Soaking in an ambitious ambiance Of aura which consumes, It seems it lingers and lasts Certain lures will attract you. Sea deep, This conversation. © 2017 TyReviews
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