Admit Time
I really dreamed
When I was new
Shot orange flowers out of bazookas
In yellow sundresses with white trim,
Walking down the beaches of paradise.
Time is a heavy sand, running through fingers
Sifting through toes and hardening the soles
To accommodate these rough paths we pave
And follow.
Dreams are nothing but sand
Running like rivers through the crevices
Of a beautiful yet
Casually Underestimated mind.
Mind…and mine
Is a black and unwanted vision
Of the world.
And so I lived comfortably in my dreams
When I was new
For they were pearly, shiny, sun filled things
Like on the tv with all the smiling golden haired cherubs
Life is never what
They want it to be.
Life is most times
Everything we don’t expect
And yet time plays on; the chords of a piano
Keeping step, tapping and moaning
An opera of a life…
An opera of a life…
Oh how time has played me…
Oh how life has dimmed…
Oh how my dreams have bled of color into simple things
All black and white, no dialogue, only muted flashes…
And yet time plays on; a song no one wants to hear
And yet…
The wise…so few in number….
Know…the opera of life…
Has no
True
Ending
Everything is perfectly circular
Yes, even this silly
Mess of moments I have collected
In a place I know nothing of
Where I must belong, where I am held captive
For an unknown
time…
By
Haajar Johnson
