In the park where visions clash,
A tapestry of life unfolds,
A pretty girl with laughter bright,
Beside a crude guy, brash and bold.
Her smile, a sunbeam in the shade,
His words, like thunder, loud and raw,
A mismatch painted in stark hues,
Love’s odd dance, a curious flaw.
Nearby, a wife with furrowed brow,
Scolding her husband, hands on hips,
Their love, a storm beneath the calm,
In whispered tones and heated quips.
An old man strolls with measured grace,
His cane a compass through the fray,
He walks in front of a woman lost,
In thoughts of youth, now far away.
And there, a father, proud and keen,
Follows his son on a tricycle ride,
Laughter echoes, wheels spin fast,
Innocence blooms, a joyful stride.
Each scene a snapshot, life’s collage,
Where mismatched visions intertwine,
In the park, a world unfolds,
A dance of hearts, both yours and mine.
– Weilian (2024)
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