I’m bored, so why don’t we hear from the poets of bp?
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Have you ever realized the blessing of a window?
Eternally fit for comfort,
No matter times turbulent or tamed,
Even the view changes to match.
When content, the gaze looks on,
Consumed in the beauty of the view.
Yet the same can be different,
When the despaired heart looks out,
Searching for solace and in return,
The mind feels at home
The grieved look, seemingly searching,
Searching for the small amount of justice in the world,
Or even the presence of the loved one passed on,
Enduring through the pain because of
The comfort from through the pane,
The view, which cools the spirit of the fiery,
Calming nerves, allowing a focused mind to prevail.
That window, where all have stared at some point,
In times of worry and struggle,
No matter slave or sovereign,
In hope that things will get better.
So in this a lesson be learned
So simple, just a glass fixed into the wall
That even one with not a life extravagant
Can feel fulfilled
𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥,
𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕟𝕠 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥,
𝕋𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕥,
ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥,
𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝, 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕕!
𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕚 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖. 𝕚 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣.
𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣,
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕙 𝕘𝕠𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖’𝕤 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣.
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕣,
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖.
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜,
𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥.
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔.
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕥.
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥...
