Truth makes itself apparent - every now and then, if only for a while.

That's deep.

 

This sort of writing is great. One, you are distracting the mind, and two, you are developing an alternative taste [here a literary one] that is going to sap the addiction of its strength. My effort tonight:


Bold Magnolias Explode

Impatient of a tardy spring,
Bold magnolias explode,
Falling for the briefest fling
On the dullest garden sowed.

Though a few cling stubbornly on,
The petals on the pavement lie,
Their voluptuous form now gone,
Trodden on by passers-by.

Ah, but what impressions they made,
And how could timid buds compare,
When they burst in joy unafraid
On a hint of spring declared.

In an ostentatious stir,
They gambled all their beauty,
The bold magnolias that were
No flower of modest duty.

 

Indeed. But one mustn't forget how endless the imagination can be. The charm, the contentment, the influence, but also the tyranny, the burden. O imagination dominating my life, leading it ever which way your folly chooses. Before me you continually hold up penalties before action. To others you deceivingly promise blissful rejoicing.