Glassballs
My thoughts are like ever-moving glassballs;
teardrops of a rainbow.
They split then roll away
toward the four corners of the world.
On their way, just to reach their goal
one ball is rolling on another one,
then, at once all of them halt,
when they get to their right place;
a place where they meant to be together,
safe and sound,
right in front of you.
Just to make you aware, that
with you they are finally at home.
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