fear | The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere

The truth can be painful,
the road to happiness can be rough,
the less you say sometimes can mean more,
the little things that someone does
can be the most special, precious,
meaningful, and touching, gifts of love.

We protect ourselves and are protected by others all the time,
we are kept in the dark sometimes for a reason
to preserve the peace, to sustain the harmony,
to not harm the sensitive of us
who can sometimes feel like they are the victim of someone
who has committed a crime.

We all surround ourselves and feel ourselves
when we are in the company of those who know
what we are thinking at a moments glance,
we all sing along when we feel the need to,
and we all dance;
we all laugh, and we all cry;
we all do anything to make the things that mean the most to us
last forever and never die.

Without protection of some form,
without something to sometimes hold us back when we need to be,
we would all just run free and run wild like a child,
and rage and self-destruct like the winds of a storm.

If the Earth were not surrounded by a thin and fragile atmosphere
none of us would be here,
if we too never had our reality of serenity
we would all feel and be constantly missing something-
like a man without fear;
if we did not clothe ourselves with the leaves of our colours
we would be as barren and as bare as a winter tree.

We all seek affection.
We all have an addiction.
We all look and ponder at our own reflection.
We all want a little protection.