See small miracles
Be more happy when they come
They come anyway
They are not real, yet
they ruin many endings:
flawed expectations
Sometimes they are great
and sometimes dystopian
but never certain
Credences and trusts
Hopes, responsibilities:
Great expectations
I changed these one day
disappointments went away:
my expectations
I want simple faith
I shuddered when I wrote that
This is not simple
Gray does not feel great
as it grates away colors
and yet if feels real
Just as we each breathe
So too we fight our battles
In and out each day
Colors are arching
refracting and dispersing
droplets of sunlight
A very small stream
it always seems to trickle
with hope, in my heart
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