A poem, today.
Delirium Ramblings
On foggy and wet mornings, every perfume smells of you.
A short night's sleep left me in want of caffeine.
Detached and with strange perspective, I hold a grande coffee with room.
Forced delirium leaves eyes with little rest.
Hyperfocused, my gaze finds art and balance in everything.
My uncertain heart held out for you, willfully ignorant of the fact I'm bles't.
Love,
Colton
P.S., A thought on poetry: Poetry's meaning should be known only to the poet and he who knows the poet well. Those reading the poetry long after the poet's death and interpreting his words are generally guessing.
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