19. Joy

What is the point of joy
book-ended by fear
and restless nights,
waking in the morning
to a still-dark chill
sweeping across the world?
Do the trees stand on their own
or are they lifted by the sun?
Do I stand on my own
or am I lifted by you?
What is the point of this joy
when I can find no cause for it?
Surrounded by this darkness,
all I can see is light.

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~ by Kyu! on February 26, 2013.

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