Hello my fellow ka bula vakatamata (human beings Fijian)! Alas, it has been too long since I have written to you last, and I sincerely apologize. I have been having a bad case of writer’s block, in other words I had a great idea for a post, and then it completely left me when I sat down and got to work… keep in mind that this is not that really good idea post.

So today instead of trying to rack my brain to remember that other idea, I have decided to continue a series I just began, which is the Prepossessing Blossoms, which I thought was appropriate since I was trying to make the photos as flattering as possible, and if you saw them in real life you would be in awe. It is the sequel to Delicate, Divine Lies… I am not too sure about the title just yet, but let me know if you like it or have any other ideas.

So before we jump into the first poem of the week, and hopefully the beginning of a more consistent schedule, I must remind those who have an uncivil mindset to not share those thoughts with the rest of the readers, but if you do have any critics for my writing or any suggestions on what to post about, please write a comment in a respectful way.

Thanks for sticking with me, even though I have the most inconsistent blogging schedule out of probably any other blog out there, and sega tale ni ado (without further ado in Fijian) au vakamoce vei kemuni (I bid you farewell, again in Fijian)!

Colours make up a rainbow
But somehow each individual one 
Is a radiant combination of the collection

Yellow is a bright, happy colour 
It falls between green and orange on the spectrum
And it is oddly complementary to another colour labelled as blue

It is categorized as cowardly
Yet it is the identity of something so powerful such as the sun
It can be described as betrayal and egoism
Yet something so brilliantly yellow like a sunflower can absorb sunlight so iconically

These designated pigeon holes are complicated
But we see them as perfectly splendid
We see them as these things that help us to classify nails from screws
Humans from monkeys
And rights from wrongs

Our morality is so ethically questionable
Those who make every decision with deadly precision 
They end up strained mentally
But those who don't 
Are frowned upon
And asked why they are so impulsive

There is no correct answer
There is no perfectly good decision to make
And there are no bad ones either
Because modern life is so complicated
That all the variables are layered
And no one can see anything from every possible angle

And then more pigeon holes are created
More synonyms for words like naughty are made
Each one having a slightly altered meaning and extreme
Each one having a million people being slotted into them
Trying to identify who is who

Making their character traits into boxes with labels
And their souls into minds with ill given names
That have been forcibly suited to one person
Over and over and over again

Until all the colours of the rainbow are faded into one big blur
In that original pigeon hole labelled humanity