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Beauty2 min read

I seat here as I watch the beauty from the balcony,
Urbanization encroaching on my view,
Steel on steel with loud drills screaming gentrification,
In my horizon sunset flowers rise and shine to sing to the setting sun,
Squeezing the last rays on the risen sun,
The flowers glowing in the yellow and red rays,
With their colors glowing brighter evermore,
As if to encourage the glowing sun,
A reminder of the beauty in the world

A juxtaposition on reality that I ingest day in, day out,
Specks on the wall that presents itself to my blinded eyes,
Sockets fixed on the haze absorbing and discoloring the world,
That lifeless body by the immigration building,
Past love gone with the storms,
Deep friendships washed away by the rivers after,
The risk of a life’s work at stolen silicon,
Specks of work, delinquents of the joy that squeezes the high,
That oozes off the tight squeeze,
How can I ignore the specks that absorb the color around me?

What is love? What is affection?
Both states of delirium where these specks hide under the moonlight eclipse?
Yet some people have the power to cast the lunar shadows on these specks,
The absolved light covering the darkness that is in the world,
Yet showing your face in times needed,
At the eleventh hour

Like a single leaf torn from weak a branch,
I let the wind carry me,
In my lightness I swayed with the wind,
Dancing to its music in vicious circles of time
Then the sun rays drew the dew from my meager starch,
I dried out and embraced the horror showing my scary side,
The scare of a spark to light the jungle,
And I would carry the energy of the new wave across the jungle

Yet you spared me the light of spark,
I lay my roots into the soil and let them dig deep,
Penetrated as far as the rock hard parent rock,
Now I no longer sway and dance with the wind,
I embrace its religion and turn my branches to the direction,
And spring back to my predestined incline

Like vibrating strings my brain sings fantasies to my ears,
Formulating the possibilities that could be,
My jar is ridden with holes,
Punched from battles past,
But I am hungry for brilliant minds,
My viciously hungry mind wanting to know theirs,
Seat and stare into beauty long enough for it to stare back

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