Faces of Sorrow

A sad day,
and it is sunny.
The world is laughing at your expense.

A sad day,
and it is raining.
The world is adding to your sorrows.

A sad day,
and the sun is out.
The world is offering you some quiet solace.

A sad day,
and rain is falling.
The world is crying with you.

It’s daunting to realise and accept that the world isn’t black and white. Life is a story, a book, which you both write and interpret. There’s so many ways to see the ‘concrete’ in our lives; a million different meanings we can assign. Sometimes though it’s easier simply to live life in one mind set. It’s easier because it gets you through each day ignoring the continuous whirlwind of contradictions that life gives rise to. But it can make you miserable as well. Having convinced yourself the world works in a certain way, you become unable to read the books others have written. Seeing the world in black and white, the drawings of those who paint in colour confuse you and make you angry and afraid. But that simply means you need the ambiguity of love even more. I cry for you not because you have tried to throw away my book but because you are afraid of colour and my drawings hurt and confuse you.

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