Perfectly different
and in the sparks of a flaming fluid
I’d see myself
just as a kilned pot
but with cracks for perfection
Different.
Flawed. Perfect.
BENIGN
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Perfectly different
and in the sparks of a flaming fluid
I’d see myself
just as a kilned pot
but with cracks for perfection
Different.
Flawed. Perfect.
BENIGN
I don’t usually walk alone
But I know the beauty of solitary saunters
And I know how sweet it is to hum tunes my brain credits itself for
so I walk with my music
and my problems too
Chanting them as if to entertain the whizzing winds
Singing them as if the melodies would shoo them away,
With the incessant brrrr!s they leave on my ears
Chorusing them to the birds
Just as if their responses are solutions
Chirp! Chirp! they quip, and I sing along
There’s a solution to my troubles,
The winds and birds know,
I don’t walk alone.
I don’t walk alone.