I write. I have always written. Paper is far more patient than people. Anne Frank was right about that. A pinch of sanity coupled with a whole lot of clarity; that's writing for me. I am so infinitely aware of just how replaceable human beings can be. If you're broken, rest assure, like a little toy you can be substituted. But paper doesn't make you feel that. It just listens. It watches without judgment as you bleed out both nonsense and logic, love and hate, joy and sorrow, anger and forgiveness. It just listens. And it preserves to memory.
Strange isn't it? That we have to resort to inanimate objects for a measure of compassion? Empathy? Feeling? What a way to weather the storms!
~ Rosetta 🥀
YOU ARE READING
Picture Poetry
PoetrySometimes life isn't just words. It's colour, texture, sounds, smells and sights. Living life means being open to each of these elements, and if you are, then the poetry is constantly in motion. Whenever I travel, or see something that motivates me...
