The boisterous turn quiet
the violent turn tame
the arrogant turn humble
nothing is the same.
Vegas forges darkness
New York is silent
Chicago simmers abandonment
all is eternally bent.
The cities are leveled clean
the barren deserts filled
all creatures are ravenous
or else they are killed.
I’m going to do an essay soon, I promise.
It seemed good
but was it really bad?
Once I was in the mood
and now I’m quite sad.
Just trundling seemed the plan
but it ended as my home.
Unable to find a proper clan
to call my very own.
But the last is just the start
of a greater, happier life
where following my heart
is possible without strife.
All seems useless and boring
until I can be free
but I’ll remember in the morning
that’s exactly where I’ll be.
Dreadfully sorry for the inactivity, but here’s an old poem of mine.
When the skies are blue and the clouds are white
I think everything is quite all right.
But in a home, warm and smart,
Someone cuts their wrists and scars their heart.
My joy can only be thought as this,
and everything is confusingly impermanent.
On cloudy days and rainy nights,
all of my happiness is out of sight.
But is a place, quiet and small,
Someone can with joyous call.
My sadness can only be thought as this,
and everything is beautifully impermanent.
Skies and Clouds 