Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, October 27, 2024

The Irony

 If it weren't for chapters 

   life would be a short book. 

 


Life is like standing in every corner of the room,

each comes with a different view.



My head hurts...


I stopped dancing,

as sadness appeared,

when I thought of you

and the time we shared.


Was it a page, a chapter or two

or was it a book of loving you?

I've spent a lifetime trying to explain

the choices that seemed like a game.


Falling into a foolish trap

as if the world had the last laugh,

the emotions that have a hold

continuously unfold. 









 

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