My Poetry (c) 2k-RondaLee Within the Inside of Out Within the inside of out we lie. We lie to one another. Beneath the growth of wisdom, unknown thoughts spark harmony. We dwell. We dwell on the dead body.  We notice that ice begins to form. We sing. We sing the melody of forgotten songs, and the end of future beginnings. The cradle swings in the tree, and the baby cries for a mother. Confusion shows of lost and found, thinking of sweet babies' breath. Invisible growth was sparking, as everything turned white. In gross formations, beating the creation into oblivion; interrupted by the birth of a nothing. Everyone, and no one, saw the coming of something within the lights of almost and past. Fruitless empty lives. Simple Simons, and all-knowing. They all drifted off to sleep, as devastation remained with every rebirth. I prayed to the Father, I cried to the Mother, and thought of Hell. Next  Or, Back to or visit