GREY


If the days are cold,

And the nights are bright, 

And the sky’s too tall for your deep sight,

If your feet dance on without any song,

And can’t remember if its soon or far too long,

If your face all smile when your lips do too,

If the seed you planted, now shelters you,

And the dreams you held have passed your hand,

If the mysteries of life you understand,

And you look in the mirror and see the other face,

And need to learn once more to tie your shoelace,

If the dusk don’t scare you as much as the dawn,

And know you can win with a single pawn,

If you can close your eyes, and recite your home,

If you can close your doors and still can roam,

If they came from far and in you seek,

The wisdom you have but struggle to speak,

Know then friend and shed all fear,

The ocean awaits, you are here.







Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

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