As I write,I realize,that much of what I wrote before was poetry think in terms of metaphors are so conditioned to them that they have manipulated our thoughts to believe so much that is false sorrow is a passing cloud sorrow is a negative emotion decays the thoughts and reduce them to something vile and distressing clouds-white or dark,they have an amazing existence!I have experienced their flight and hurry when back at home I've lain back on the concrete platforms amidst the fields watching them with my little sister beside me."Where are they going,she'd asked."To Salem",I'd replied,knowing that it'd please her.A queer manipulation of not just words but thoughts too,because I lived in my imagination,what it'd be like to see the cloud in that crowded city.
Nobody thinks in verses.They require that same manipulation of words,a deliberation of thoughts that even demands an amount of exaggeration,I feel like talking.But I'm wary.Words make me feel vulnerable.