POEM IS NOT A PROPHECY

poem, can be a very unpleasant experience for some
it's like how a crescent moon became such beautiful panorama
while there's a man sat anxiously
disagree with the view he faced
were waiting for full moon arrival
cursed the owl
cursed the cloudy night
cursed everything that doesn't seems right
yet he still waiting
hopelessly

poem, is sometimes a source of doubt
filled with subjective view of dogma
we are an obscure eyes
who never picked the same clover
some preferred red
and some already chose blue
but we are all at the same field of blooming flowers

poem, is about thing you want to be right
poem, is fantasy created by the devil of thought