thoughts [poetry book vol. 1]

22 // hang low

POEM #22: HANG LOW

When the heavens hang low, in iron-gray,
We only have ourselves, destined to stay.
Bring out some colors, dark and bright,
To stare into through our fateful night.

Their thoughts' a pulse, in radiant tune,
A solid anchor, underneath the moon.
In love and hate, the top will bend,
A friend's genuine hand will always extend.

In the blurry moments of the regular life,
A new helm will smoothen out the fight,
A look, a laugh, a story half-spun—
In friendship's flare, there is only one.

11/17/24