Pin pricks...
Pin pricks of poison
spill on my day -
my space in the sunlight
is spotted with spray...
Some say it's the devil
who spits in my eye -
a demon from darkness -
a monster who spies...
Some think it is fate
that turns the wrong way -
a fault with a fracture -
a dent in the day...
To me it is simply
the pattern of life -
down snakes and up ladders -
a board splashed with strife...
Pin pricks of pleasure
spill on my day -
my space in the sunlight
has room - still for play...
Joy Weare,
3rd June, 2011.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
poet7925 |
|
|
|