I tell myself at night.
Meet the day, greet the morning!
Accept... the mourning.
This powerful wave,
tossing, wallowing.
Fumbling and falling along.
Swimming, sinking, gone.
Alive. Alive!
Shrivle,too little, bye.
Back again, singing, dancing,
streaming multi-colored ribbons.
Green.
My eyes. Heavy, shiney.
Genes.
The pretty green eye gene,
the creative stubborn gene.
Jeans.
The freeway.
Gravel spits at my ankles
pant legs dragging.
I'm soaking wet from sweating.
My ankle, it's leaking,
It's green!
Like sweating, like bleeding,
I'm bleeding!
Lifting, floating, flying.
Random. Just what my brain does.
Comments
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This consistently maintains the use of good poetic technique. The form and shape complements the nature of the poem. It is worth re-reading to gather the layers. Thanks for the read
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Sorry, I don't know why it showed my other comment with 2 stars?
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layers...
I like the images...really thought-provoking and could have so many meanings, which makes it even more interesting.
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