Pep

Fresh feelings are people
The first to wake up,

A marriage of tickling,
The rumbles of summer.

Wrong is something to carry,
A rucksack of rough notes,

Sadness a mirage
And nightmares a hoax.

Don’t let the dark skies
Dictate your haircut

Or polish the sweat
From your brow.

You are almost a comet,
A fire in your chest,

Fast like the sunshine
The brilliance of yes.

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