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COLOURLESS

Poetry By: pakla
Poetry



IT'S NOT ALWAYS COLOURFULL...IT ALSO GETS GREY SOMETIMES. SOMETIMES THE COST OF AN ACTIVE IMAGINATION IS UNBEARABLE.DON'T GET SICK LIVING A FICTIOUS SQUANDERY.LIFE IS A GREAT BARGAIN.


Submitted:Apr 21, 2011    Reads: 60    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


WITHOUT COLOUR


it's not real

our faces never met

nor the shadows cross


it was affection untrue

i had not made her a banquet

neither felt attraction's touch


it was imaginative beauty

product of hyperactive mind

it crippled i only me


it was a fairlytale

written on slate in tablets

glowing in false flame


my world grown dark

in the jaws of extinction

my framework lying in comma


she hugs and kisses him

another man my successor

and leap triumphant past


in my sight my tears

my life squeezes in

and falls inwards and out


she ruined my life

fictious beauty of my dreams

graphic imaginative affection






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