And the water that rushes
The light bulb within my mind went
Out this time, black like matches
That tend to flicker after a little bit
Of Breeze,
Because I seem to forge that
Rush of an idea that I want to write,
I'll go on still
This time surprisingly it's not a blue,
Nor white but a
Gleam of radiant glow yellow moon,
And the feet that aches but determine
To go from one point to the next
That'll someday leads to success,
And when they ask 'how did it all started?'
You make sure replied with a smile
and say 'My feet'.
Or say 'My vision, my goal.
Or something cliche motivational,
You know.
You feel small sometimes like a grain
Of sand, and smaller than that,
We people of a people all walking,
Eating, living their own lives,
Going through their own problems,
In a universe that's vast and bigger than us,
In a country see people, meet them
once then never again,
See people don't feel the need to interact
With them,
See people and didn't even know
That they exist,
People see you and think the same,
All going home or someplace where they
Call home or try to,
All tired, Some lonely, Some nice, Some
Grumpy, going home to same, unexpected, headache and a little bit
rest.
-ashes poetry
