Tiny Horizons

An Ode to Unwritten Melodies

Imagine the world's most humble horizon
Where the sun rises with loud silence
And the clouds are but shy phantoms.

There’s a tune that echoes here, unwritten, wronged.
Words scattered like confetti on an unapproving breeze.

The cat meows its unsung aria,
A ballad lost in existential purr-sistence.

And somewhere in the digital ether,
an algorithm taps its regenerative toes,
writing symphonies in a key that never quite exists.

The coffee upon my desk brews its own tragic comedy,
Yet to be nominated for the Pulitzer in Irony Circle Jerks.

Join the Cacophony Conspiracy. Become mildly interested. 

Here, horizons are neither broad nor promising,
But ‘tiny’ and full of unfulfilling potential.