Poetry

My camera can’t capture it. So my eyes must take the picture. 3-2-1 click. Everybody smile. Oh, I think that building blinked.

This is why people paint. This is why people write poetry. Because watching the lights sparkle and dance along the water with your friend in Prague is too magical. It bubbles up everything inside of you that it just needs to burst out in an artwork of some kind.

It’s magical. It’s… oh, crap! Literally crap. Man, I just washed my shoes. Click, take the picture.