Good day my fellow inimestele (humans in Estonian)! Although it isn’t an actual post, I launched my homepage today, and so be sure to visit it so I don’t feel like I wasted two days trying to figure out how to add links into buttons😂… click here to access the said home page.

Today I thought I would do another image based poem, since I found a picture in my camera roll that I thought was quite divine – sadly it doesn’t include any animals or beaches, but it does include a very glorious flower! No one commented on my last post that they were getting bored with image based poetry, so I don’t feel as repetitive as I did before – that being said, you should be expecting some more diverse posts from me now that I have finished most of the pages.

With this particular post, I was thinking of making it a series, since I have many pictures of beautiful flowers that I haven’t got anything to do with. I am probably going to end up doing it anyway, but if you have any title suggestions for the series or posts, make sure to leave a comment, or a like if you want more content similar to this!

Before we get into the poem, procedure calls for me to remind anyone who has any abominable thoughts going through their head that some things should be thought, but not shared. (I think I kind of boofed the saying, but you get the point!) I do encourage any feedback, but if it isn’t considerately polite, you will be blocked.

But lets not end on a despicable note – remember this blog is about sharing my writing (among other stuff) with the world. So I hope you enjoy another image based poem, and without further ado, I say slán le mo chairde (goodbye my friends in Irish)!

"Roses are red"
It's a fact of life

Just like "children should be seen and not heard"
Or "you've got to make darn sure you understand something before doing it"
These are facts of life
But not really

They were
But now they are old
Crippled and mournful
Not leaving any room for inspiration
Or new life

These "facts of life" are outdated
They have been put on a shelf to rot
And when someone brings it out again
They daren't change anything about it
For they are delicate

Delicate means they are easy to break
And the most delicate, most intricate thing you could make
Is a lie

With divine precision
It could last generations
But it could also crumble after ten doubtful seconds
It is only the extreme that can survive for long
And with time they only grow stronger
And surer
That they are right

These out worn precepts are divine
They are divine in the way that they grow and evolve, but still stay the same
But calamitous in the way they stop other things from growing

They leave no room for improvement
Defiantly rigging our minds
Turning us to sheep
Who are advancing our technological world in ways we could never imagine 
Yet submitting to the same rules our ancestors did

But like all lies strengthened by time
These ones have substance
They have layers
They have an extent to which they are right
Despite the majority of them being wrong

"Roses are red"
Yes they are
But they are also all colours
Just like people

Majority of us are stubborn
Thinking vile things but never sharing them
And that's okay
But that isn't our definition

Our stubbornness isn't what makes us the gorgeous rainbow we are
It is our relationships with those around us
It is our past experiences that lead us to the present and to the future
And it is the emotions we feel
When we are proactively idle
And happy
And free of those delicate things
Those delicate lies
Sweetened by time