Drifting by

Most of the time I feel -

Like a wild flower in a garden

Like a smeared mascara on a well done face

Like a rogue child, in a well synchronized orchestra

Like an anomaly

Like a character from Murakami's book

Like a fool

like a poem, gone wrong

And sometimes I feel -

like an oasis in a desert

like a lovesong

like sunshine in a storm

And then at times -

like an incomplete book

like a grey sky

like a road that is under construction

like a memory left to die

Moment to moment - figuring out my place under this blue sky

Finding meaning, spreading joy, healing wounds and watching this life just drifting by.

Like a rain drop that falls and blends in with the rain

I race back into the crowds and try to forget my pain

1 thought on “Drifting by

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