A budding writer's collection

Blinding Lights

Many a day, the sun is shy,

Playing peek-a-boo behind gloomy grey fleece

And some days, like a blip in the matrix,

The sun shines so bright

It lights up the golden fleece.

'Tis a pity happiness can't be bottled,

So you sit, making a string of wishes

That may never come alive,

Like getting drunk on her laughter,

And capturing his quirks even as the moment fades,

Like preserving your heart in that state of expanse,

Like snatching those hours away from

time's overflowing sack.

And you sit, smiling every few minutes,

Hugged by the warmth of those hours,

And you know that only emotions can

grant you those wishes,

Through tears of joy as you reminisce

and the redness of cheeks painted by love,

You know for sure,

You were infinite that day.