There is no original thought
We are all connected
Everything we feel
Is only one perspective.
Dismal corridors long
The shuddering of trains
Timing is unceasing
Hear the call of the rain.
Smiling in politeness
You do not belong.
And with every person you
Manage to fall in love.
Fear no more these people
Be no longer shy,
Evolve and extend
It's scary to try.
Across space and time
Our ribbons are undone
There is no original
We are united: one.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
