Beauty seems perfect,
But nothing is.
Highways seem endless,
But really are not forever.
Looking at the feather of intricacy,
One may ask,
"Who made you?"
Only the one who lives in both the future and the past.
Nothing endless is bliss.
The day you decide
To look for me,
You won't.
I am naked to the eye.
YOU ARE READING
Tuesdays
PoetryPoems with Tuesday the ever-so-friendly cat! Poems about everything.
