A poem I cant fully describe about two simple things I like which I suppose is really a bigger picture of the way I see beauty in often discared thing, people, places and how it sometimes leaves me misunderstood but happy.
Image via Wikipedia
She is the kind of woman who can stand cltuching a boquet of bright yellowiness in a desparate way
knowing its a losing battleso thirsty….it can waitShe is busy weaving dreams I meant to say she busy braiding dandelions into her haircarefully(still clutching the others in her hand tightly)So parched and dizzy she can barley breatheShe looks past the bright yellow sourrounding her cautiouslyThey’ve demanded an explanationShe has noneInstead she offers them giftsall she has in fact,Pigeons and DandelionsTHESE ARE NOT FLOWERS AND BIRDSTHESE ARE WINGED RATS AND COLORED WEEDS She was indeed sorry that she did posses the sort of affections that she shouldShe was all out of roses,orchids,lavender,and night blooming jasminesNo nightengales,swans, bluejays or peacocks ever roam this wayA complex beingwith a frenzy of simple,wreckless,hopesFull but ThirstyTired but ReadyA barley audinle song”To deny our beauty is akin to dismissing the reality of our existance”…and that we cannot haveit is as undeniably persistent as the sunrise or a girl lacing wishes out of dandelion petals and crafting glittery star filled nights out of pigeons wingsShe laughed(rather roughly)realizing the rain would quench her thirst
Currently there are no comments related to "Dandelions and Pigeons". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
