A Christmas Poem
They ask me what love seems to be
And I talk about a fly into the blue sky,
Like it’s a climb to reach the mountain’s peak
With my laces untied,
A protest for the lost rainbow
With no match-sticks to light,
And a game of hungry madmen
With no animals or arrows.
My words began to taste green
So I picked my 5th grade journal
Read the poem in a silly handwriting
That talked about the old lady
sewing bright colour moon
For a city 30 miles away from home
Which has everything in pop-colours
But no black and grey.
They asked me what love was
And I told them a story of the teenage girl
Curled up in a ball
With his arms wrapped around.
They asked me what love is,
I walk away,
Lay down on my bed
With my body stretched
Like a castle not afraid of lonely room,
Or words that taste like colour green.
LOVE I define ~”A tragedy with fairies and Christmas lights”
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