Gold dust mixes with tears in my eyes
Drowned on dry land, smothered by the light
Blinded by the alluring promise of a glorious future
A common thread connects some, but a platinum chain is known to their comrades
Even pendulums slow with time
I have always held torches, not candles
If one were to desperately cry out for help, one's true ilk would answer the call
We mustn't become content with our mirror selves
Reflections are but illusions thrust upon the gazer by the looking glass
CZYTASZ
Nonsensical Poetry Collection
PoezjaA nonsensical, somewhat whimsical collection of short poems about whatever catches my fancy. Excerpt: "Miniscule maelstroms only harm those small enough to be caught in them"
