Alyosha came home from work
more dead tired than he expected to be
In order to relax he painted with
muted melancholy and ennui
He painted frantically yet magestic
there at the door his lovely Lorelei
She embraced him and sat startled
and looked at his painting wondering why
His fingers and paint brush created
a symphonic vision of the evening sky
She whispered you are a brilliant painter
It wasn’t my intention was my reply.
Hello,
His friends observe Mark seems wired a little differently. Perhaps it’s more likely that noticing little things often missed by others is a relic of a quieter, simpler time. He has a way with words, which he refuses to let be hindered by sub-par typing skills. People have great stories to tell if you sit and listen.
A belief dear to Mark is that there is certain beauty in the world. You simply have to look for it.
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The Side Effects of Endorphins 
I would love to hear you opinion as well