Yellow

 

Ballad Poems:

 

I see the golden fields before me

The smell of clean air

As birds fly above towards the sea

The sun shines with its warm care.

 

Wind whistling in my ear

Saying “How do you do”

Well it’s been a long year

What can I say, “How are you”

 

Dwelling on time inside, I cry

Clocks ticking their last tick

I wish this was all a lie

It’s making me sick.

 

The sun sets in its orange bliss

Forgetting all that was rocks

I’ve found something to miss

Memories that lay on the bedrocks.

 

 © elizabeth najera

Published by Wnderlust Music