Mind
In the psych of the mind
it must look like the room I’m in.
Empty save for a bed and chair
and the window that is sealed with steel mesh.
As I sit in the corner and look out my one window
I see a clouded sunset.
It looks beautiful.
Streaks of coral red and lighting yellow
dabbed by inkblots of cloudy grey.
Outside this meshed portal
is an imperfect world.
Full of horrible nightmares
of a cruel and unforgiving species.
A bird flies through
that purpling sky and illuminates
my mind with the flap of its feathers.
A truth in those wings takes flight
in my mind
to see a truth in this hospitalized solitude.
Despite my own horrors, I can still fly over this
and once again find beauty in life.
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