paikya

"Pendulum" I struggle as I run, Into this saturated world. I see the different shades Of the varying cherry blossoms petals, I hear the jingle from The late afternoon ice-cream truck. I feel the warmth, Of my fleecy blanket. I taste one thousand new And exciting flavors everyday. And smell that fresh Spring dew. ...and the clock keeps ticking. Summer smog, Taints my sense of smell. I taste the same old Cardboard as I tasted yesterday. I feel frozen, Under my scratchy duvet. I hear the constant drone, Of the early-morning freeway traffic. I see the identical flowers, As they lie as dead white soldiers. Out of this