Amputated dream
In a dusky room
through a broken window
she watches
as a clown with a twisted face
burns all her flowers
and dismembers
her sacred thoughts
and to that old familiar tune
that old familiar tune
her world begins - to distort.
Every day
she slides through people
as if they were not there
condemned into darkness
the clowns voice
grinds her very soul
there is no clarity here
chaos rules supreme
she is desperate
she is trapped
inside an awfully
amputated - abstract dream.
And as the long grass sways
to the whim of the summer breeze
she is finally overwhelmed
so tired of the acting
so tired of the disguise
so tired of seeing her world
dripping - before her very eyes.
The clown is playing his pipes
that old familiar tune
he's calling for her soul
but her heart is stubborn
There is light behind a hidden door
she has to believe
it has to be true.
The walls are spinning faster
as she fumbles with the keys
her hands are cold
her legs are weak
the hidden door is close
somebody tell her
somebody help her - please!
In a dusky room
through a broken window
her mind begins to explore
this place she finds herself
standing behind herself
watching
as she tumbles
to the floor.
© Rik - 27/02/2006
Poetry by Rik
Read 1339 times
Written on 2006-02-27 at 15:31
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