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Wishes Don't Come Tru
White moves in a graceful twirl up, down, and around like ribbon.
The sadness of puppies makes me feel like there is a storm inside my heart.
At the edge of silver is soft like aluminum, brittle.
The swirl of loneliness sounds like silence, I try to fill the void with my own sound.
A baby’s cry is bright green yearning as much attention as other colors.
The hiding place of rain shivers underneath my jacket, goosebumps all over.
The antonym of pink is the happiness I know deep down isn’t there, it’s a mask.
If you turn hope on high, you’ll see profound disappointment and discouragement.
When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find you’ll have to step on a few eggshells to get what you want.
If you jump into the present, you’ll land on the anxiety and stress I feel.
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I enjoyed using a lot of details to craft this piece.