A little finch looking for birdseed
flies away.
Madame Cardinal, looking striking today,
allows my senses to soar as she perches.
Phonics and counting with someone
so alive.
Why is there such relief
when the greatest blessings are paused?
Loneliness is most poignant in a crowded room,
especially a room filled with acquaintances
that seem to desire nothing more
than to remain vaguely familiar.
Everyone has some sort of feelings,
but not everyone has the same feelings
about the same sorts of things,
friends tend to, but not always.
What makes a friend?
Nothing.
Nothing in particular anyway.
Friends are made the same way as enemies.
There really is a fine line.
It is easier, oftentimes for me,
to love an enemy,
than to love a friend that loves my enemy.
Love does not need to be blind to exist,
but loyalty does.
Blind and deaf,
like an old dog.
Depressing, isn't it?
Life spun without romance.
How much nicer to see dimly in candlelight
and choose the sound of soft music?
We all do it, in one way or another.
We chose to be the faithful old dog,
or the stray, or the hopeful romantic...
It helps when one has a friend who feels the same.
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