This is a poem that I wrote in response to a painting I saw by Clyfford Still.
Life is like a
car ride in the mountains,
high and low,
fast and slow
Life is like a
trip on a long and winding road,
to the left and to the right,
you come in and out of sight
Life is off,
life is fake,
Life is like a car ride,
but at the end of the day,
what counts is on the
inside.
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