He is so much like a sky
Big, bright, and open...

I look down at myself
Lying on the floor...

Rejuvenating
Dripping...

I’m a white cotton ball in a bright blue...
I can see everything below and more...

Blinking
Twinkling...

I think inside my jail cell
Musing on philosophical ideas...

Poetry is milk that’s been in the fridge...
It could be good milk...

When there’s a way
When there’s happiness...

The water lilly yawns as the gentle breeze says...
She watches the frogs leaping and hopping from...

I walk around
No clue where I am going in the shape of a circle...

I am trying to hide
Attempting the impossible...

I feel the sun on my leaves
The sun is warm...