Gears
Happiness burns,
Its a forest fire,
Accidents happen.
Something forgotten that glows,
Extra bright,
Too bright
Too silver
Too gold.
Or lacking skin there of by which the light gleams,
It burns in the blood,
In your chest,
Up your neck,
It just burns,
And then it catches fire,
And it rages.
The crackling of memories buried long beneath hopes,
They burn,
And the gears of the heart begin to grind,
And tumble,
The rust,
It casts a mask and scent over the lingering sadness.
But i regret these gears,
And I'll use a thousand tears to extinguish this fire,
All fires die,
All happiness dies,
Ideas.
Ideas live,
They're contagious,
They spread further than fires,
And consume more than mankind,
The idea....of happiness
Is consuming,
Unforgiving.
Copyright © Dontell Browne | Year Posted 2020
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