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The Lesson

Life can be the sunshine. In the crystal blue heavens, Souring, kaleidoscopic, feathered creatures. Along youthful, grimy, joyous sparrows, Perched upon sacred hallow timbers, And the haunting melody of the shallow, brilliantly blue stream of eternity. The cascade of jubilation, Where imagination is infinite, And tremulous but grateful smiles spread affection. Or life can be the rainstorm, The wretched overcast days are bleak, dry, and colourless. Billowy thunderclouds erupt of a helpless tsunami of tears, Caressing against your skin, Delicate like a kiss; un-promised. The ferocious wind, Whirling your distressing emotions into a murky puddle, Descending a drain; neglected, forgotten. The spiritless butterflies flutter upon tattered, broken wings. A figure standing at your wooden door frame, Drizzling of rain and tears, Gifting you an inevitable gun, In the shape of a ravishing rose. Where your tormented heart can perceive what your eyes cannot, You withhold a story behind your grief and desolation, And all you can do is fake a smile. The most faint, grateful smiles veil the deepest mysteries, The most charmingly timid eyes have bawled the most tears, And the most affectionate hearts have suffered the most pain. Life can be a problematic, narrow highway, But ponderous routes frequently lead to sensational destinations, And precious things fall apart, So exceptional things can fall together. An impeccable life can be heaven, And a deplorable life can be hell, Yet no wonderfully blissful sapling can sprout to heaven, Unless it’s roots extend downward to hell. Life can teach merciless lessons, But you’ll be keener once you know, That even crimson fragrant roses need both sunshine, And a drop of relentless rain to grow.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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