i don’t understand how someone can look good when they cry
crying is a nasty habit, which is why I’ve avoided it for so long
it is just a form of losing control
a person’s inability to rein in ones emotions
yet sometimes late at night when you are wondering about the existence of mankind and the pending desolation of said species you cannot help and cry for yourself and your family and your friends
you can’t help but cry for the ones that will never be born and will never experience the cruel and marvelous thing that we humans call life
the dark accompanies such pondering i have come to find
for in the morning the deep meditations of the previous night seem as harmless as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing
yes the light of day brings about a new set of seconds and minutes and hours
full of joys and sorrows hurts and comforts
the rays of an early morning clear the canvas of the past 24 hrs
so that we may paint on it once again only to damage it more
during the day there is a sense of security that allows us to feel safe
this feeling diminishes along with the sun and just as the moon brings fire flies and owls
it drags our personal Pandoras Box with it
and as we open the box to find fear and doubt and evil
we can always find that small sliver of hope at the very bottom
some people claim to have lost all hope
but it has always been there and it always will be there
hope
four simple letters
one simple syllable
a whole lot of meaning