Beauty.
What is beauty?
Is it nothing more than a
fleeting
furious
feeling
quickly lost to the noise of the world?
An image of a dream we grasp onto and chase down?
Can it be seized?
Can it be held?
Can I behold it?
A dream.
Floating away on the clouds…
Come back.
…come back…
please…
(This was more just a free thought that popped out of my head. Written as I thought it. So, again, welcome to my brain.. it’s a bit messy in here.)
I like the scattered type. Makes it interesting.
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Also, very reflective of my thought pattern.
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NIce
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