Often I sit in bed
I lack the motivation to move,
So I spend my time looking through a window.
The sky is never the same,
Sometimes blue, grey, black, or even yellow.
Today, the clouds are like golden stone.
Taken back in time, or ahead in time,
I cant tell.
Feeling is a stranger to me.
Captured by my own mind, I'm lost.
Seemingly at peace, I'm really not.
What appears calm, a fire burns bright inside.
Fear, anxiety, observation.
Patterns became the same,
I couldnt tell the time anymore.
I guess it's better to stay away from reality anyways, so for now I guess I'll continue looking at the sunshine and rainbows.
YOU ARE READING
Berry Tree
PoetryA book of poems, scrambled thoughts, and endless stories. A bit mysterious, but that's the fun of it. You make the story; you imagine, and wonder. Each page is like picking a new berry from a tree.
