The doctor told me I'd feel some pressure
How could he know?
How could he see the colors through my eyes
What if my blue
is his yellow
What if my morning is his night
And all the yellow light I see
streaming in my window when I wake up each morning
is, in fact,
the blue hue of the dusk
Share This Poem
This Poems Story
This is a reflection on how different the same thing can appear to two different people. When someone tells you everything is great, how do you know what "great" is to them? How do they know what it means to you? We all have our own scale and way of interpreting, and it can make you feel extremely isolated and misunderstood at times. But there's also unity in that. A unity in the fact that we all experience the world through our own soul. When you look out the window and are filled with anxiety or sadness, I may look at the same view and be filled with hope or gratefulness. There's so much beauty and mysteriousness in the contrasts.