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52 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
52 lines
1.5 KiB
Plaintext
school-mandated poetry: day 8 / ballad
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2018-01-13
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***
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waiting under a forever blue sky
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watching as all the younger girls scream "bye"
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I would say "wish you here here"
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but there are no postcards for sale
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a silver wire to soon be around my finger
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and the impression of your face against the summer clouds still lingers
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the ancient question begs, "are you mine?
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or is this all a lie?"
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only purple is a unit here
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not pink, which has dissolved into the blue clear
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due to a lack of interest- and my shorts are gray
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but they don't have to be shorts- they can just be gray
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so say hello to your new lover for me
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because by the time I get home tomorrow, I'm sure I'll see
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that my home is empty
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and my room full of crumpled sheets
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the wedding tonight has been cancelled
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one of the brides has been locked up in the sickest cell
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you have twelve hours to make up your mind
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she loves me, she loves me not- no end in sight
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so now I'm splayed out on the jaded grass lawn
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the stars are so lucky- there's always someone out there to fawn
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they say that outdoors, food tastes a hell of a lot better
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but then why is my stomach churning like the far-off weather?
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little did I know, hence two years
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I would be shedding tears
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but of joy or fear, I cannot tell
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I'm not a fortune teller or horoscope writer; I'm not here to sell
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why does the sky have to be blue?
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why not gray to reflect a burgeoning city's soot
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or green like all the other damn trees here
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just more trees everywhere
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trees
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trees
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and more trees
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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