She sits by the cracked window pane and hears the rain meticulously drip.
Maybe being locked indoors made her long for that magical purple lightning,
or could it be that she dreams about what a frog's pond may look like?
When was it she called home her prison—like when filthy glass windows turned into metal bars?
She wonders and wonders, lost in her starstruck thoughts,
unsure of what to make of the the empty, lackluster space called sky—
the one that bleeds without the ocean's vibrant touch—
so she declares the dull world beneath her until the day she sees jellyfish fly.
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Poetry: My Overthought Thoughts
PoetryMy overthought thoughts of the universe-or stuff I wrote when I got bored. I wrote some of these years ago so some are meh but others are more recent. Would love to hear your thoughts 👍🏼 because I'm not sure where I'm going with this either :) I a...
