A lonely poet and a lonely world.. a world with so much colour and smell.. but nothing to keep...
The world is so small that I dont see the small dot in the white. I ignored the affection the effort that was trying to glow in the mud.. we shud look more clearly at every little glow in our misery....
From A Human View
"...we should look more clearly at every little glow in our misery..." Less a light at the tunnel's end, more a reminder that joy cometh like tiny short lived Islands bridged by most emotional states of everything but happiness and laughter. Add kindling, then sticks, logs that will conflagerate, then as all fires must, become embers glowing that eventually fade to ash. Such is Joy's nature. Nice write - allets -
I thank you for shining your
I thank you for shining your torch of colours to me though still so blind but recognising the flavours that melt in my air. I will sniff hard the juices and in me I turn them into a juice that helps me digest the pangs I am receiving. It will collect.