|
| | A black hole.
A blank page.
Empty Locker.
Filled coffin.
Locked door.
A broken radiator.
All of which individually contain
Voids.
A lack of mass and matter,
Words or poetry,
Books and bags,
Life and soul,
Opportunity or escape,
Heat and warmth.
Sad, no not sad. But true.
I'll give you that.
Each void passes unnoticed,
Undiscovered, unthought of, unopened.
But when the page is filled,
As is the locker,
And a child born,
Or a door opened,
And heat created,
We stop.
Stop, to hold witness to beauty and
Rebirth.
Death,
No. No one seeks for death,
For the cold,
And the solitary.
Yes, physically, maybe.
But in time, everyone
Seeks homage and
Rebirth.
Not the black hole,
Or the blank page,
Or the empty locker,
The filled coffin,
Nor the locked door,
Or the cold.
No one.
Giuliana Watson |
|
See, I did really badly for my A levels... And, just to clarify, how well one does in an examination is dependant on expectation. So, don't compare eachothers' grades side-by-side. Makes no sense. Compare the grade with
effort, time spent and potential... Consequentially, I did REALLY badly.
But comfort me not, some things happen to wake up out of our life-less existential shells. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That is if you let it make you stronger.
Not so special now eh...
Ha...
