Heavy feet collide with the sidewalk, as I make this morning stroll, chirping red birds above me, socializing with a forlorn soul. Catching views from cars in passing, in the grass there lies the snakes, this lifestyle that I'm pursuing, cunning withdrawals I start to shake.
I slowly reach the vacant bus stop, day a different shade of blue, animation of a sheltered world, perspective in color starts bleeding through. A formication of rain upon me, rising around starts to flood, a lonely rose grows in the concrete, a new meaning here starts to bud.
Chaptered seasons begin it's change, a perverse life learning to cope, splintered rocks that I walk upon, a yellow rose came yielding hope. Early thinking guides constant refuge, it's in the latter when you feel, no fence splits the greener grass, explaining the struggle is real.
Standing in line with my head down, I'm in front of the line today, first and foremost love yourself, so one day you can give it away. A poem can resemble a beautiful rose, strong like the picture in pose, it all started with, the chirping of birds...with some concrete surrounding a rose. ~VeepLee~
©veep
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