PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

And so I spoke to a man who lived
inside his juice flavoured
perception of the world in tones
of utter gold. He neglected nothing
in his battle distracted never
by the many lidded symbol of
the issues used to cover his
abuse. He mentioned more than
once his understanding was
somewhat skewed towards
nylons and disaster, and
flicks of paper that he
collected and kept hidden
behind his walls. One never
knew when one would need
a colouring book to pursue
a new abuse. He dangled
his horizon through a straw
which he filtered through a sieve.
Commenting on the state of happiness
that he discovered was never
far from over. He spoke of gold
as if it were a religion
he surrendered to. And yet I sensed
that his awareness might
possibly be misused.
"Don't complain if we run
out of toilet paper!"
he would shout at the cars as
they drove by. And it would
make me wonder if his method
was any cleaner than the daggers
in his eyes. And so I pondered
this situation with as careful
a glance as I could muster.
Leaving bricks and wood behind
for the man to build his own
colour of the day.