Songbirds are chirpring merrily
among the sun touched greenery
and I am still in bed.
I admit, it is my intention
to stay inside, where there's no danger of rejection
or chance for disappointment.
Now I find myself safe,
but also alone.
If I can't win both ways,
do I still want to call this home?
I'm so bored of sleeping.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
1 comment:
very good question. and right now i do feel like hiding away from rejection and disappointment, but alas... being alone is not fun. and one can only sleep so much...
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