|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
what did I do
when I realized I was living in a glass neighborhood populated by ghosts... I said: "Its time to move on." here, there's so many shadows I'd forgotten about the sun and the shivering I felt so much the coldness dampens even in the first fine warmth of Spring I could walk a thousand steps and not walk out of this circular sucking vortex here emotions are so sped up the people are puppets with their strings being pulled from the clouds how unhappy in the good ole land o' plenty have we become, you and I this is hip slick o'-burbia where all share the same opinion yet no one gets along fingers point out the different ones so they can be sieved out for ridicule yet often we all end up singing one discordant disharmonizing sing-song not interested in being a card carrying member of this snub-club on the corner I heard one of the hipster Sirens luring me out into middle of the street they'd like me to be just like one of them... but, I have to get away I'm moving on out from this glass neighborhood before I shatter, become caught in the shards and the ghosts gather me up and I permanently loose my way yes, I'm moving on out I'm counting the minutes, I'm numbering my days looking towards a new horizon one where there are no ghosts Copyright 1/30/2015 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author Melissa A Howells/Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World Copyritten Site. All Poetry/Prose/Rants/Ideas Are the Legal Property of this Writer Vote for this poem |
|