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SmileSome days I find it so hard to smile,
Then I look up to see your smiling face.
The imagination in your quaint eyes,
Makes my pulse race.
Some days I find it so hard to breathe,
Then I open my lungs to all the air.
The oxygen clears the fear from my mind,
And leaves me bare.
Some days I find it so easy to smile,
Even when things around me are broken.
I hear the pain in the parents blue words,
So soft spoken.
Some days I find it so easy to breathe,
Through the thick fog, the bitter thoughts of life.
The hostile images fill the air,
With unadulterated strife.
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More