Is it our fault?
That we can never be satisfied
Is it our mistake?
We corrupt our own joy
Is it bad?
Our guilt, always ringing
Why is it?
Always over-thinking
Tag: joy
Joy of reading
The joy of reading a new book
Crisp new pages
White
Uncreased
Promising
The much greater joy of reading an old book
Pages yellowing
Tender
Brittle
Invaluable
Can’t stop
I’m high
My pen won’t stop
It wants to write
Anything
Everything
Like I got this music
That won’t stop
Won’t stop getting me more high
I’m high already
Madness pumping, screaming
Like a crazy child
No reason, no situation, no inspiration
Just a string, a continuous string
Haphazardly, jumbling, all over the place
Can’t collect them all
But some are finding their way through
