Infinite lines
The lines casually shape themselves on the wall
Unrealistically connecting from one end to the other
Painting a not so perfect picture that just manages to make sense depending on my point of view
They carefully hypnotizes me in a long stare
Taking me from reality to a place of infinite possibilities that get me wondering 'how' did that get there
But Never knowing how
Yet I wonder
I wonder how those two soldiers got there and why they could possibly be fighting
Or the cat laying on its back playing with that ball
Though I wonder out of my undying curiosity but they some what partially, significantly but not entirely gives me comfort
People, I try my best to understand them
Pouring my heart out hoping that would be enough
but they take it all then demand for more , more of what I do not have
so I make running back to the lines on the wall a regular
and there I'll begin to envisage my own perfect people
Constantly trying to separate the good from the bad
Like me subconsciously trying to stop the two soldiers from killing each other

The lines on the wall
Like their curved and imperfect edges,
Its A constant reminder that no matter what
Presents its self, all was never meant to be perfect,
Uncertainties and disappointments, heartbreaks, lust and death
Just like the lines on the wall
They are inevitable.
https://poetree.ca/post/65240bafe84dc9d1fcebd8ae
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