I tried to write a poem.
I ended up with this.
I wanted to speak tales of fire,
Colours, kids and bliss.
I found among the colours
Of the flowers and the trees
That only grey stands out to me.
Cold, and bleak, and weak.
You speak to me of hope,
But I see just another day
To make excuses for myself
To lock myself away.
The shade upon the boulders
That has caught the ire of my eyes
Is defining what is normal
As we watch each other try.
I tried to be a soldier.
I tried to be a shoulder,
But as I’m getting older,
I find the fire dies.
(Image Credit)
