My Small Silver Spinning Planet 8: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
A small silver spinning planet enough room for one; no one else is allowed here; just me, my self and I. It is so crowded here on this planet of mine; where the sun always shines because the rain misses every time. A rime in the blustery weather as the music falls from the trees. Seas of lilac crash against the metallic mountains; I see an expression in the water and it is not my own; is this the lake of fire were souls come to rest and speaking of souls; were has mine gone? Some wear lost in the glowing green clouds above. Falling rain drops of love, hit my unfamiliar face as I fly like a dove soaring with wings of gold on this little spinning planet of mine. These eyes see miles of nothingness no one to love and no one to hate on my small silver spinning planet 8.
By John McKinley Pride Jr.