cackles of auburn pierce the night.
Sunset faded hours ago,
its warmth still burns—
These thoughts turn to ash as I stare into the flame—
watching fragmented star light float to the night sky,
waiting for tomorrow’s answer to today’s feelings.
When I’m at my worse or at rock-bottom,
there’s no choice but to look up and reach the achievable.
If I were a poem,
I’d flutter like a leaf pretending to be a butterfly.
would have no rhyme,
defying the etiquette of life.
I’d be miserable,
like a pill waiting to be swallowed.
I’d be overjoyed
like a squirrel in a hollow.
I’d be everywhere
for everyone to ignore.
I’d be misinterpreted
by critics—more and more.
But if I were a poem,
I’ll show ‘em.
That this twisted monotony
is worth living for—
If only I were a poem.
Who needs falling stars or lucky charms
when the wish you have is in your hands.
With a clear mind and a blazing heart,
the infinite universe understands.
So, let it shine
as you cast it high
in the setting sun
When you say you’re feeling “Blue”,
there are different hues you can choose.
Someone is bound to drown for you.
I tried it a few times and failed at that too.