Random thoughts and pictures flash,
A soul that flies, a mind that's free,
Astray, away, a symbiosis,
Images and ideas of pain and glee.
Time may heal all the hurts,
Distort what's true, make us wait,
Like sand that's spread out by the wind,
We swallow the bait.
Illusions and breath-taking beauty,
Surround me at every step I take,
Bewitching, enchanting, disarming,
Even those that are Nature's very own mistakes.
Once in a while, something extraordinary happens,
Chance happenings, quirks of fate,
Miracles they are called by those of faith,
Aftermaths, they are, of when the storms abate.
People come, and people go,
Filling up life's pages or leaving behind empty charts,
Leaving behind memories and broken thoughts,
Souvenirs in the form of broken hearts.
A divided world, imperfect,
Shared by a multitude, a few million and then some,
All of whom dream porcelain dreams in black & white,
All of whom, call it home.
2 comments:
It's been ages since i read poetry! I didn't realise until i read this...
you were right, it is very abstract.
was it easier to put it down as a poem?
Well, yeah. I mean, there are these half-formed ideas in my head that, sort of, form a chain. It's easier to find words that rhyme and just type them as they come. Then, rearrange stanzas until they make sense in a rudimentary way.
Anyway, abstract is how I write. The readers can come up with their interpretation of every sentence that way.
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