The Everlasting Light
I cannot like this light it is too harshAnd cold and brash.
After hours of warming it does not hue
Or blight me to ignite myself to dash
Towards care unless I am mortuary bound.
I like things pretty peached and splashed
With a creaminess all around.
Fortunately I have paints so I can smile
As you try to see me in the shadows
Of the light that casts improper warmth.
Light is very important.
It shines on us so we know
How to see another thing.
Even when it's dark.
Poetry by jenks
Read 653 times
Written on 2011-09-08 at 00:08
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