A howl tastes like the gust of icy wind you feel on your face when running from the unknown; the rock bottom of October never will smell like a summer’s breeze.

The top of tomorrow waits like an icicle hanging from the ceiling of a cold, dark cave;

The swirl of loneliness sounds like the drip of a leaky faucet.

    At the center of boredom is the sound of a clock ticking second by second,

At the edge of silver is the bright color of new opportunities.

When you toss sadness to the wind, it returns as a boomerang of happiness and hope.

If you turn hope on high, you’ll see life from a more optimistic perspective.