Is it always frowned upon
to stare at what we love,
And to look away
from what pains us?
Does the sea ever forget
the sailors buried underneath
it’s pearls or does the sun
melt away their hearts entirely rotting their souls?
When God picks ups the stars
why is the sky left crystal blue?
When the rain pierces the ground
do the seeds already waken?
When we cry, does love exile
or are we pushing it away,
and if we do, do we regret
while keeping the tears at bay?
