Suchaita Tenneti


Inspiring Sadness

Sadness is uninspiring…a point of statis…a prolonged masturbation of the moment, a mockery of time…

Sadness is pointless…so infantile, weak, petty…about as productive as pondering into infinity ablank


Even the moon shows no pity…too preoccupied playing muse to inspired hearts…not a care for us lesser mortals trapped in unremarkable moments…

(The chest heaves, descends tableward, the chin prepares to touch wood.)

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