Let's go to some park.
Some carrousel.
A merry go round.
A Ferris wheel.
Or a roller coaster.
Let's remedy our souls.
Let's forget.
Let's laugh. warm smiles. tender hearts.
Let's repair and overhaul. our broken glass.
Let's paint us. let's turn pain to paint.
Let's turn standing apart to art. today to a fresh start.
And life's last unexpected move to love.
All that pressure to a treasure.
It's not just calcium drop.
It's all this axiom.
How we think grass is always greener on the other side.
This corrugated island.
That goes against every grain. every tree. all sand.
My cold numb hand.
Ode to grief. played by a sappy band.
They say: it always, always comes.
Rest. spring. times of better outcomes and welcomes.
All I see is strokes and strikes.
Brushes that paint only black and grey.
No purple. no white. no clear ray.
And I'm tired. gutted. knackered.
Can I finish this poem collected and gathered?
It seems like it never mattered.
i.f
01/10/2017
YOU ARE READING
Jaded
PoetryI don't know how we can put life and all that we go through into words. I don't know if words can ever do our stories and pains justice. I think they can't. They do only what the soul can.
