The sadness of puppies is a gloomy wedding day

At the center of boredom I hear white, a never ending pit of nothing

The swirl of loneliness sounds like a band of instruments simultaneously playing the wrong note

The opposite of tender is large whiff of a sour lemon

The enemy of green hides between freshly baked cookies and rotten milk

If you look underneath peace, you might hear a cat scratching against the wooden door

At the edge of silver there is a puppy jumping into my arms

If you jump into the present, you’ll land on a warm, soft blue pillow

If you turn hope on high, you’ll see light pouring through the window