A little something...

Here is a poem I wrote for creative writing and the photo (not my own) that accompanies it:


Bubbles

Why do bubbles pop?

Because
we're not supposed to see them.

Bubbles are evidence
Of order and boundaries
Of science
Of truth
Little, round, near-perfect
(And sometimes actually
perfect) Spheres

They prove surface tension, friction
Gravity
Air is matter
And that beauty doesn't have to be divine
Rarely we get to see
Something like a bubble

Bubbles are planets

When's the last time you popped a planet?