Comfort in Silence
As my fingers play a waltz with paper and pencil
Mind and thought collide into a form of unplayed rhythm
In a cantabile like form of expression
Of simple thoughts
Surrounded by nothing but familiarity and comfort
Painting oranges without paint
Growing a tree without seeds
Only the waltz is vivid
Yet these surroundings still thrive in thought
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
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