Coffee, Tea, Story, Poetry, Me

If you really think about it,

The truth is what hits you when you’re alone
In the cold,

Your hands freezing,
And you see a lonely light.

It’s also what hits you,
When you’re at home,
On the couch, Chips in hand.

Each truth seems True,
And each enlightenment too.

Sometimes, you see them all make one big Picture
And other times they contradict each other

And sometimes everything seems wrong.

It all seems to be leading somewhere,
And time seems to be walking circles around you.

And sometimes, that’s true.