When solitude finds me in life,
I find my own inner peace.
Having experienced strife
Is better than for life to cease.

We are a lucky species, to be so aware,
To not only see colors but to bestow them names.
To write poems about their flare,
To capture ice, to capture flames.

So when I am morose,
And diamonds drop from my eyes.
Time passes, the wind blows,
And I remember what it means to be alive.