May 10
It’s hazy. It’s yellow.
It spins and confuses.
It finds all the elements
Intellect uses.
It’s a smell.
It’s a memory.
It’s a comforting chill.
It’s a clever confusion
To wrap up our will.
It’s stagnant,
Yet vibrant.
It’s scathing,
Yet kind.
It’s the resources I’ve spent
To leave pain behind.
It spins and confuses.
It finds all the elements
Intellect uses.
It’s a smell.
It’s a memory.
It’s a comforting chill.
It’s a clever confusion
To wrap up our will.
It’s stagnant,
Yet vibrant.
It’s scathing,
Yet kind.
It’s the resources I’ve spent
To leave pain behind.
Overtaken by a feeling.
Nothing new,
But not so old.
Just a small fleshy morsel,
But then, one cannot feast on gold.
Nothing new,
But not so old.
Just a small fleshy morsel,
But then, one cannot feast on gold.
