A baby, a waif, assembles and breaks,
vibrant colours of the galaxy, the pieces he takes,
he puts them together like an enigma of the world,
snapping the pieces, and its solutions he hurled,
Each piece connived, lost and not found,
Zealous eyes yet to find them, while the world still goes round,
A memorabilia of what once was a conclusive test,
A single piece left over, on the floor will it rest,
A vigilant eye searches, though it may only see,
the world has a solution, but we merely let it be.
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Not my best one, but I felt like writing this lmho
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Reminisce
Poesia~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
