All I look for is the blue in someone hoping it will turn to purple, then to crimson and then to red, only to revert back to blue. I desperately search for ways to capture this transition. To look for the silver lining in the bittersweet. Poetry comes handy. With the power of expression, one has a chance to self-reflect, the best in us and the worst in us too. Carrying a feeling of impending doom over me all the time, I chose poetry. To express. To vent out. To rant out. To be myself. Poetry after all, is the silver lining in the bittersweet. It always has been. It always will be.