Monday, July 8, 2013

unit circle

The Place Where I Was Born Tiny

I miss the place where I was born.
Next to the ocean.
Near the trees.
But to return.
To the place where I was born.
Beside the trees that sway.
Close to the breeze that never leaves.
Far.
Yet so close.
Yet so remote.
In my memories.
I wish on the day.
I will visit.
Go back to the place where I was born.

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