Introverted, poetry by Hive account@naquoya.

Day 38 of 100 for Hive account@d-pend's Poetry Challenge

Introverted

Sometimes the words flow like water
into crevices and dark corners
paving the way for light to shine.
Carving away distortions so the granite
of form may reflect the beauty of light.

Sometimes the words don't flow at all.
He sputters like a dying engine
unable to communicate a hoped for destination.
And the granite solidifies and calcifies,
a cage door closes to keep the wolves at bay.

Sometimes it is like magic left unattended
as it creates a reverse flow to destroy all the growth.
Like a game of snakes and ladders
where the start pulls you back each time
you are ready to cross the finish line.

He opens his mouth
but the words
don't come out.
He writes them down in the hope they say something.
To someone.
Somewhere.
Because then their light
may filter into his world,
and perhaps the sweet smell of extroversion
will snap him out of his introverted shell.

Reading Notes: This poetry is new and written exclusively for the 100 Day Poetry Challenge, which is explained in more detail here and here.

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