g's world

A blotch of blue on a patch of white I used to scribble verses, petite Not one, not two, But too many to few. They rhyme They chime They jingle They mingle with the million songs of the world They get into my ear play into my soul and kindle me to write the untold Yet I struggle with chains in shackle I lament about the other which contain to thyself I build the mountains put them up a pedestal look up and feel abysmal of my unfortune moments that keep fattening and tense As they loom up to altitude  I frown into doom, Doom that's dark and uncertain Or that which I call future. I pace around in anger of my fated future that seemingly sulks but when I sit and opine I realise, it is my mind that plays unto my joy my mind that scars my heart and adds streaks of suffering into my life. I decide not to lie, not to comply but thrive in what I contrive to let go of the mountains renou