Looking down at the feet he knows so well
caged by beady eyes,
his colors hypnotize the crows.
Dry straw his guts, is he the scarecrow they fear?
The eagle’s wings they envy?
The serene owl they loathe?

It’s his courage that grips their black eyes

an old couple lived in a small house one day they planted a seed
soon later they both passed away
the house forgotten, never became a home again
but the seed continued to grow
it grew to be the tallest flower in the yard

one day a stranger strolling by saw the bright sunflower
he brought it home and put it in a vase
placed it next to his bed
so that every morning when he wakes he can see it’s beautiful face

Top the reached you’ve mean doesn’t mountain the of top the reaching
Found be to mean doesn’t discovered be to
Affecting mean doesn’t saying
Mark a leaving mean doesn’t affecting

Some people write about  regrets
Some write about  mistakes
Some about  heartbreaks
Some sorrow

Others people write about discoveries
Others write about nature
Others about  striving
Others surviving

No people write about  the racket of silence
No one writes about  knowing their feet by heart
No one about  the night of black snow
No one the tip of the iceberg

The cycle repeats

the roosters are prepared
they know it’s coming

it rises
it only grows.

but gives itself away
so the other can shine too

they seldom meet
but know each other so well

I wanna be able to tell people to stop searching for the perfect one because I have already found it