Crawford, Iesha

Window Pain

As I watch the sky cry, I cry as well

A million thoughts run through my mind,
Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose?
Is it in me to complete Gods plan for me?
I feel stuck like a combination of soil, silt, and clay,
No clue which

direction to turn to,

No help from anyone,

Just myself, my thoughts, and my ambiguity,

But Im not as alone as I thought,
Myself and the table in the corner share similar emotions,
It stands alone like
Dominant but soft spoken like me,
small,

noticeable, but complimenting like me

Beach house brown, with a dash of mocha, but still a little pale - like me,
Many things have taken place here,
We share many memories,
It still stands,
And so do I,
And we will for the duration of this experience,

No

matter how we are arranged,

we still remains

me,