the year
had been less than
achromatic.
the snow flakes that fell
so softly
once in a nostalgic
and colourfull land;
now plummeted like the strongest
of rainstorms.
the classroom was delinquent
and by no means
grasped the nature
of an upbeat youthful learning.
heck
i'd rather be taught
from the ministry of
fictional education
than allow my
innocent curiousity
to cascade into the paws
of the untamed beast;
my ominous conscience.
perhaps all this just truly meant
was that i was scratching away
at the gimmick of a ticket;
grey ash-like mess
crowding under my fingernails.
and then when i eventually spied
the illuminati of colour;
the craze of temporary comfort;
when i finally believed i was revealing
what life really meant;
the symbols didn't meet up.
there was so prize to be won.
maybe life was just another mirage.
YOU ARE READING
shaded wings
Poetryher wings would bloom when the pencil drew shades of black and white and tare into two when her body flew into the camouflage of night her heart was sewn to anyone but her own forgetting to love herself but there's a boy that knows his love for he...
