Bursts of light every few inches,
Like that of fireflies all flying in a line.
Each withholding a new thought,
But for now it's just a thought bubble.
We hang on our walls, things with meaning,
Meaning we don't hang ugly art, pointless photos, dreadful colors.
Happiness can be found in the struggle shown on the wall
But to others, its just a wall.
Inspired by the coincidental events of daily life,
Inspired by our pursual of a content mind,
Our wall creates it's meaning,
The memories contribute feeling.
For a string of lights glowing in the night,
Can hold the key to the ever hidden lip of euphoria.