Nobody told me about the colors
Of the sunset, how everything becomes
A warm sepia dream.
Nobody told me that when the waves
Break the worn shore
The sound was a million
Drums dancing to the earth's tune.

That when clouds cast over the sun
It looks like war paint
On her face.
Or when the sound of car horns passes
Beyond noise into rhythm
It could be beautiful.

It's like staring
At the world through a high definition
Window frame.
Somewhere you thought was
Just too far to travel.

They told me that it's okay
To be depressed.
But I never had anyone to tell me
That the suffering isn't permanent.

And it isn't.

Because even in the dark
Shades of the final days of your winter,
When the surface of your skin reflects
The grey that only you can see
There is warmth.

Had I known that when I got here
The grass would actually be greener;
I would have come sooner.

I saw the world through a foggy
Translucent film.
Not to say my judgement is
Usually clouded, but it can
Only be assumed.