The marigold is fed and he smiles for the flowers
The house shows truth
The ringing in his ears packs its things and runs away
His day shall better
It is one of those days marked on calendars 
Venus is everything and blueberries
Maybe this man is colorblind
Maybe life never took his imagination

People tell half truths
Always in speculation of the earth’s passions
The surrounding schemes are never spherical
The turned cheek lies
and time still flies?