Blind figures, statue representative of
a forwarding thought. Ahead of myself,—
_decisions, decisions, decisions, decisions._
Too many of which, walk along the path of life.
To see as much, is seeing through the dark for
a hint of light. A sense of life; in dead still waters;
running deep of a depthful mind.
It's pen *********** is of words cutting deep,
a favourable piece, seemingly rightmove as I write.
A sight for words, breathless at times.
Annoyingly simple, but overly complicated to piece
together the masterpiece of imagination.
So as I looked up to a night sky, it filled
my head's constellations of lining routes to thoughts.
In the end—a head full of trillions of stars.
_My ideas could be bright._
Aug 4, 2022
Aug 4, 2022 at 3:55 PM UTC
Blind figures, statue representative of
a forwarding thought. Ahead of myself,—
_decisions, decisions, decisions, decisions._
Too many of which, walk along the path of life.
To see as much, is seeing through the dark for
a hint of light. A sense of life; in dead still waters;
running deep of a depthful mind.
It's pen *********** is of words cutting deep,
a favourable piece, seemingly rightmove as I write.
A sight for words, breathless at times.
Annoyingly simple, but overly complicated to piece
together the masterpiece of imagination.
So as I looked up to a night sky, it filled
my head's constellations of lining routes to thoughts.
In the end—a head full of trillions of stars.
_My ideas could be bright._
Request permission to use this poem