Over Crowding

I am so weary of crowding memories,
they filter, float in translucent shades,
like ghost soldiers, standing sentry
by the drapes of my childhood room.

Picture perfect, is so often untrue,
decipher the smile on a living doll, dead,
dolled up, nowhere to go, only an echo
of a faux fashion nightmare.

Me and you, you and I, as once we were,
there's a cut in the middle, ragged and raw,
I saw with filmy shades, all pink and gooey,
of you and us and when it all was ~ just ~

Sunlit and bright, snowy and cold
Mother, in sheep's wool, you on a sled.
I wasn't yet thought of, still hibernating,
then I appear in a purple sun dress.

I am so weary of crowding my mind,
with shape shifters and drifters
and eternal blue skies, was it lies
in the pictures of when we were young?




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 572 times
Written on 2009-12-24 at 16:18

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Your heart will never grow old,
you are much wiser as shown
like a picture book in poetry
opened yet hidden from
eyes that know you yet
unfolded with a question
possibly from hidden doubts;
don't you know me, didn't
you know me, yes, I knew you
back then and now as your
heart is still the same with
no shadows, no greys,
as it will always shine through
all the albums that you
will have here on show
as your poetry is a picture
book of every moment in
fun times, sad times but
all in all it's you unfolded
in all your memories so
beautifully written here to behold.
2009-12-25


NicholasG
It is good to see you here on this eve of Noel. Perhaps it is wise to go through the photo albums in our minds and remove or retouch some of the memories from time to time. Ultra realism may not be very conducive to happiness.
All the best for Christmas. Health and happiness despite...
xox Nick
2009-12-24