Poetry, but happy
Endomorphisis
I don’t feel happy
i dont feel sad for long
i dont want to be angry
doesnt mean my feelings are wrong
i choose to be happy,
though I feel like im lying
its okay to feel sorrow
but im done with forever dying
Souls
Why do we think?
Why do we feel?
Why do we write poetry?
My dog sits her head on my lap.
Asks to be scratched behind the ear.
My dog does not lie awake at night,
Wondering if she will go to heaven or hell.
If a dog wrote a poem,
Would I still have a soul?
Art
There was evening,
There was morning,
There was day.
Words, out of nothing, create worlds.
Inside, feeling,
Inside, warring,
What to say?
Worlds, out of something, create words.

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