Deep-diving into the culprits of my self-deprecation, "Discount Shakespeare" showcases all 50 of my poems, originally posted on Twitter, which I had written from my high school years to this day (whenever this gets published, I guess).
Teeming with...
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Discount Shakespeare An anthology of musings Poetry by seomins
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My city, not yours
The 8th dawn of March brought out the most jubilant colors that my city had ever cradled like its first-born. They hung at the very top of spring, the pinnacle of a year long-lived and cordial, like the brightest flowers in the city's garden when it sang the hymn of its blooming. From the rich blues and yellows of the morning's canvas overhead, to the decadent pinks and purples of bakeries around the block, with their fresh aroma of pastries to match, down to the sharp, vibrant golds and silvers that stood tall and sturdy amidst the streets' festivities, there's no doubt that everyone was ready to bid their winter whereabouts at home farewell.
The weeks that built up to this one were but searchlights for the first spring glow after the chill of winter, seasons ever-changing as those weeks followed a motionless, hot summer. These times were curiously quiet, often having people wake up to crisp, white dawns, work through clear afternoons framed by the 4 corners of their houses, and sleep with the night sky guarding them, smeared with the moon's harsh glare. Now, these spring days in my city were said to strike a match up with the seasons' clockwork. Streets were jam-packed with people of all ages, kiosks of everyone's favorite street food open for the whole city to enjoy, and the most frivolous tunes filling the air like a festival that withstood the tests of time. These were youthful, restless days. The glory days. They led people to experiencing, surely, the times of their lives.
