By

 BRUSHSTROKES OF THOUGHT

Where thoughts gather like the morning dew,
In the quiet corners of the mind,
Good hands point with gentle strokes - lifting hearts,
Brightening shadows to sow seeds of hope.
They build with whispers of kindness,
Layering dreams on solid foundations,
Weaving threads of compassion,
Into a world aching for peace.
But some minds are as sharp as broken glass,
Cut through the light with thoughts like axes,
Splintering the bridges others has built,
Just to tear down what love has carefully crafted.
Yet still there're good people all over,
Brushing their visions into the air,
Believing that for every hand that tears,
A thousand hand will rise to paint the world in beautiful colours.
(C) @2024
Photo: Courtesy of unsplash.com
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