When the skies are grey,
I wonder how the birds continue to fly with a sense of hope?
When the moods are that of shades of grey,
I wonder how people continue to find faith to trudge ahead?
Grey.
No clarity, there seems to be.
What lies ahead that murky haze,
Who would be wise to know, and not be caught in a daze?
My world is now in a shade of grey,
And it hopes for a tinge of blue to cheer the day.
Likely woes are not meant to be forever,
And so one should look further,
for that beam of sunrays far ahead.
Yet, between the white and the black,
where boundaries are clearly drawn,
the grey section seems to have its own mysterious force,
to make room for flexibilities and the unknowns.
If only I could better appreciate the beauty in the shades of grey.
7 comments:
perhaps birds have more faith than humans.
poetic PY has surfaced =)
such a gorgeous poem! I never found it easy to find metaphors for grey skies and grey destinies.
I think you're done it well :)
keep on writing!
Hi there, I went to the NUS concert on Sat and caught your orchestra's rendition of Butterfly Lovers. I have to say both the orchestra and Foo Say Ming acquitted themselves admirably! I enjoyed myself at the concert, it was a great programme!
Thanks for your compliments. How did you folks realise that I thrive on encouragements?
Jelly Girl: Thanks for supporting the concert. I am glad that you enjoyed the concert.
frankly speaking: Simple american, I have not pen the words and then read them as I practice music.
actually, simple american, after penning down these words, I was too tired and drained to play any music. I was too tired to even listen to music. I was tired from the hassles of the day, not from writing.
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