Twice I asked her,
"Are you sure"
Twice I asked her,
Then I let go.
Of love and of people
The lies, the hurt
The fake, flimsy bubbles
Of loud love and lame laughter.
Happiness is an actor
Talented, brilliant
The masks, the lines
The costumes, the lights
The lights- turn them off,
The mask slips,
The makeup washes away
It's not so brilliant anymore
Reality is talented too,
Talented at being itself.
Happiness seeks imagination
Reality seeks sense
I am a believer in both
Hence, tired, confused and spent.
-j.t.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos Inside.
PoetryAbsurd may be the tale I tell Ill-suited to the marching times I loved the lips from which it fell So let it stand among my rhymes -John Keats. It is difficult to get a hold of what's going on insid...
