When summer rolls in,
like a storm of billowing clouds,
I gaze with a grin
at the trees that are crowned
with lush, dark leaves
and an energetic aura,
and sunlight, thick as thieves,
as I play among the flora.
But this storm sometimes comes
with humid, heavy rains
that beat down like drums
on the valleys and plains.
And it drowns out the mood
until it seems much more fitting
to lie in the grass and brood
than to jump about unwitting.
To watch the darkened sky
rather than face the light of dawn,
and silently wonder why
and admire the life, so withdrawn.
ΔΙΑΒΑΖΕΙΣ
Ghostwriter
ΠοίησηLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
