Truth In Senses
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Truth in Senses
by Jourdan Bilbrew
Jutting pines dancing wind branches that wave,
the smell from the needles excite your brain,
foliage, grass, and bark on the ground.
You realize you have a past
but don't turn around.
The present is euphoric
the future is vague,
happiness is mad
unless effort is made.
A hand that manipulates a pen
a mind that creates peace,
begins with zin,
zin can overwhelm hostility and pain.
A mental bruise begins to scar
healing can only begin
when the problem is shined upon
and not hidden in the dark.
Smoke is airborne
for a short period of time,
then evaporates or falls.
The smell remains so it collaborates
with all,
which is matter; therefore,
smoke is neither before or after
it's always like a stain
that is powerful in stature
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