Posted in Poetry

The Thing

The giver of life,

they call it

 like water and air

still, I am unappreciative

Until,

I think,

I remember

the cold in the winter

and the warmth in the summer

the salty breeze 

the crispy morning stillness

the scent of cinnamon

and spice

and family

it is then that I am grateful

reveling in that thing that is never seen

but always there

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Author:

Life is a strange state of being, if you could even call it that. It's honestly quite a bit larger than I expected. I am not very good at introductions, so I suppose I will start with a generic hello. I am Mi_Chan, or, at least, that is one of the many names the people closest to me call me by. I created this website back in high school for a creative writing class, and have found it to be a good place to store away my thoughts. I enjoy writing poetry and short stories, and am currently working on a novel.

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