One in a Million

Sometimes I choose not to see them.

Like how I can turn the taste of my food off.

This feels stale, standing with worry and anxiety makes life so pale.

Frail, Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood.

If I don’t see the color, I don’t want to paint.

If I can’t taste the food, I don’t want to eat.

a disease.

Snowflakes and good feelings, I like colors surrounding me.

Playing bright music, and smelling creative food to eat

I miss the people and the roar of the concert

Suddenly the weather just changed, and we all went inside for months.

From spring to summer

Summer to fall

And fall to winter

Back to May now

My poetry familiarizes me with the accent of a circle.

The pause of a period, and

The use of repetition.

The abstraction of my poetry can leave me in the dark.

I seen enough.

In the dark

True colors can leave you with nothing at all.