Pester me not problems of indisputable woe.
We cough up dandelions beforehand afterwards before we know..
Commonality of an oddity.
Postal service stamp with misfortune as a smile.
Innovation burning away innocence.
As we light another candle of hope to stay for awhile.
We capture our experience.
Through eyes of grey.
Honey coated fantasy.
For even the rain has a little sweetness to it every now and then.
For the dawn was beautiful beyond the words of expression.
For not only for the blooming miracle precipitation.
Which revived itself time and time again.
But for the beauty she herself spoke.
Without words in the perfect slumber.
Share This Poem