Projekt_223pm_365_2014-06-01
Whizzing through the orbit – – – – wandering on night sky
Dancing colours in your mind – – – – that mingles ferociously
Your deepest thoughts – – – – and dearest hopes.
For you, my sunshine – – – – the sirens whisper
They cheer your echo – – – – from aching bones.
You have this dream – – – – for hundred times
These dirty deeds – – – – with dental treatment;
You look around – – – – for lucious clouds
To hide your soul – – – – in sinking moons
Until your day dawns – – – – and dreams are gone.
You make your mind up – – – – come Monday morning
At least you think – – – – of thorough feelings
That caught your brain – – – – and coughed ideas
From flirting mushrooms – – – – in muddy pants.
They smirk at you – – – – and see you wonder
What happened then – – – – at home that night
When clouds were white – – – – these whining bastards
Without protection – – – – this treatment fading
No mushrooms left – – – – and little distraction
Too much for hope – – – – to hide from pain.

© Séamus Kennan.


Yes, I’ve done it again: same style like the previous day but slightly different in meaning. It’s a weird one today. Not entirely weird though. Maybe you can find some hidden sense within these words.

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