Polka dotted passion
leaves my heart still…
However will I manage
To get this place filled?
Flies in the attic
Speak volumes of my life…
Empty boxes overflow;
Telling my tale of an ex-wife.
Broken trophies, stolen trinkets,
paintings torn to shreds…
They give my soul redemption-
keep reminders in my head.
Spanish tiles line my walls-
Insulate my brain…
Thoughts of broken wings and things
make me go insane.
I’m dreaming of colors
not yet made,
yet learning to embrace
the many shades of gray…
-Mags 08/19/05
2 comments:
i must say that touched me AND that i am extreamly smart...or maybe im giving myself too much credit here lol. ~FLipper (the DOLPHIN, hey!)
Flipper,
I'm glad you enjoyed the poem.
And also, you are pretty insightful. It'll be our little secret.
he he he...
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