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Surreal and Pink
 

I never felt more
like singing the blues
as I crossed the bridge
over troubled waters.
On the other side
were my strange kin-folk;
my siblings,
with their sons and daughters.

The elder sister,
an artist of note,
had a still-life arrangement
of clocks in a boat.
She was sketching time,
'tick-tock, tick-tock', I listened;
a cuckoo called
and the velvet sky glistened.

Casting pearls before swine,
pounding diamonds to dust...
it's been so long, I can't remember when
there was one of my clan I could trust.
Should I try to mend that bridge...
or not?
Should I strengthen the pylons...
or let them rot ?

Would I be crossing bridges
to knock down walls,
only for one more regret
when the cuckoo calls?

The decision is made.
I don rose-tinted glasses,
attempting to think pink
until the generation passes.
This probably seems surreal
to you;
but put on my shoes
to see my point of view.














By cherryk

© 2018 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Multi (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Multi (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Multi (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Multi (challenge has been closed)


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