( art is mine )
on a monday, the sun rises
and the sun will set
on a tuesday, the sun will wake
and go back to sleep
only to be woken the next day
over & over again.
different day; same life
and the man with the ink is yet to
run out of different words to fill in
his verbose passage
and the boy with the pen
has not yet realized
his dependance on the ability
for his mind to entertain the same day
in different ways
only to retain his sanity
time stands still
oh how bittersweet it is.
-n.c
