stained glass

Folder: 
The Influence

What does it mean to be pure? 

I'm only here. To be clear. 

Transparant to love. 

See through. 

I'm just a window. 

I'm made of glass. 

I easily shatter. 

You can look right through me. 

See everything I can be. 

Nothing left for imagination.

Condensed. Only reflect lunacy. 

I catch the rain to keep others dry. 

Only optimal to have a new outlook at the sky. 

Maybe I'm washed up. 

Overlooked. Keep walking by. 

Minimal veiw.

 Unperplexed in audacious matters orchestrated by you. 

I wish to be mosaic. 

Stained glass. Something that catches your eye. 

But I'm just the seeing glass inside a project home. Not appealing to the naked eye. 

A portrait of poverty. 

Just throw a blanket over me. 

Because the view is unsatisfactory. 

A failure by design out the factory. 

Rotting wood makes for leaky seems. 

Cracks and displaced. 

I rattle out of place. 

Vintage missing the case. 

Beauty only in mind and character. 

Old  used and worn. 

Chipping led paint. 

Pictures talk to me. 

A Van Gogh disfunctionality 

Edgar Allan complexity. 

Glorifying uncertainty. 

There Is no right time for poetry. 

Descriptive words 

So messy and abstract 

Colors clash like tidal waves that crash 

In fear and faith that deciphering 

Is illegible. So I can slip in by. 

And you will never notice me.

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KindredSpirit's picture

This is very good IMO

Spirit