A poem a friend of mine actually wrote together. Obviously, it doesn't have a very coherent structure or form. We were literally texting this back and forth, one line at a time, spontaneously. I think it turned out quite decent (although she didn't).
Life was a cosmic holiday that he celebrated every day
He basked in Christmas trees and falling leaves
Every day was a New Year, every second midnight
He gifted love and luck more than the twice days that was required.
Spending black nights watching the fireworks of his mistakes, tracing names in the air with the sparklers of his passion
As the days get colder and the days get shorter, he can't help but to wish to be someone else. Halloween is just another day dressing like somebody else.
But the low lit solstices and the curtains of night that fall with the leaves leave him with desire to throw off the masks, burn them with yule logs and ash, go and find his own face
He learned that his presence was better than any gift he could ever give
That being, that living, that breathing, that feeling, was a gift, that a beating heart outweighed a mask
[Is that the end? It kinda sounds like a good end]
[yeah I think so, it sounds about right]
