Pink clouds roam over the city lights
reflecting back and tinting untruths
onto each pen anticipating a hand,
dyeing untainted views
Here is the truth.
Palm trees dancing in the breeze,
wide roads swerving into traffic,
streetlights and suits and gates and bees,
my house, my home, my corner of the Earth
A balloon escaping from a child's distracted grasp,
the thundering clash of the rollercoaster, crashing
in unison with animated shrieks of thrill,
blue sugar
twisting around a cardboard tube, little
feet rushing to measure heights, cars bouncing off
of each other, endless tickets beings spit out,
tickets to happiness
loud, little voices
big voices chasing after,
plastic carts gleaming in
the sun's glare, a frenzy of neon lights
at every turn, a fuchsia of stuffed
animals anticipating a winner,
missing M&Ms tumbling down to the parking lot
Fire engulfed the lost balloon,
the rollercoaster,
the tickets to happiness,
the little voices, the big voices,
the blue sugar and the burning neon lights
Gone.
Everything gone.
Humans devoured by the flames,
and the balloon and the M&Ms were not the
only ones lost.
Lives lost.
Bullet shells lost.
Blood lost.
Robbers with moats and crowns,
with high collars and confessions,
broke through the Earth to kill,
and blood formed a creek on the ground,
without a single complaint
If our paths were to cross,
my sight of this terror would burn you
with an enormous blaze
Look at my house,
that should now live under the Earth,
with the rest of the deceased.
My country, out of order.
Our children, broken.
Now sparks fly instead of balloons,
scrap metal instead of bees,
and flames dances instead of palm trees
So, the truth does not speak
of rainbows and nectar,
hummingbirds and true love.
Author notes
I modeled this poem after a famous one. Just found it again, wrote it about a year ago
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