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Darkside
January 11, 2019
I feel the sun bounce off my dull skin,
Yet I remain cold,
I watch as the wind blows swiftly through the sharp grass,
Yet it remains dead,
I sense the cloud of a cushion that lies beneath me,
Yet I remain uncomfortable,
I notice the clouds, dark and airy, shifting over the sun,
Yet they remain motionless,
I greet the sharp, bright red leaves as they join the wind,
Yet I remain untouched,
I see the bare trees swaying, back and forth,
Yet I remain unmoved,
I feel the cold, rough air hitting my face,
Yet I remain happy.
© Libby R., Sumner, WA
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I like to think that this poem shows how everyone tends to dwell on the bad things going on in their life when they should be thinking about positivity.