The overcast sky seems overwhelming, if that is all you can see.
The earth seems lowly and limited, if that is just what you can see.
The clouds seem to just gather to batter the hell out of me, at times.
I can’t help but smile, for it is a gift, I see.
Sun is everywhere in May.
It’s snow everywhere during winter.
The winner doesn’t care. The winner chooses to live.
Stubborn pen on paper. Determined heart when things are low.
Yet I struggle to detach at times. The clouds, they gather so.
Things are mad now. The iron is hot.
I look up at the clouds and give them my cheeky grin.
“In your face. I believe.”