Prism
My mind is a prism.
Ridges of plexiglass.
Angles with multiple hues varying on where the light hits.
Some angles have no light hitting them at all.
But it doesn’t mean that those are less appealing.
Just more challenging to interpret.
We often overlook the shadows in our mind.
Giving them no credit for leading us to the transformative colors on the other side.
It is within life’s deepest complexities that the soul unearths its rarest treasures.
So why wait to unearth yours?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
