Why is it that your beauty begs me to write poetry?
It's all the same, nothing new.
Your beauty is easily overlooked by most.
And yet, I can't help but feel the pull.
The rolling hills, crashing gently in the distance.
Green grass, tall trees.
It goes on for hours.
You compel my eyes to gaze into the foggy horizon.
Your beauty demands me to catalogue every breathtaking inch I pass.
Are you some kind of metaphor?
What do you stand for?
Does your serenity represent mine?
Or am I simply reflecting yours?
You seem to contradict my homeland.
A speck of green valleys and hills in a sea of yellow flatland.
It ignites a sort of kinship within myself towards you.
I can't help but turn off my music to listen to yours.
And these pathetic fences do nothing to cage you in.
Sweeping winds blow right through them in a show of defiance.
And in a moment, you change again.
And somehow, you manage to steal my breath, again.
You speak to me, but I do not understand.
How could I?
I do not speak God's language, which you seem to be fluent in.
I am blind, but not to your beauty.
It's subtlety is striking.
Which brings my mind back to your contradiction.
You represent the small amount of purity left in this ugly world.
But you represent more than just that.
I'd like to believe you represent me in a way.
A subtle beauty, easily overlooked.
A living contradiction.
A speck of purity insignificant to most.
But not all.
And it gives me hope.
A forlorn smile grazes my lips as we part.
You sing a bittersweet farewell to me.
But I know I'll meet your graceful soul again someday.
YOU ARE READING
All My Thoughts I Never Shared
PoetryA compilation of all the things I've ever thought or felt, written out. Hopefully, someone reads something they can relate to. And hopefully, it'll brighten their day, or at least make them feel less alone. All the poems you read here were written b...
