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Fools Paradise
January 3, 2011
Moments of time start to pile in a heap,
Demanding to be wrote off as empty space.
Slipping into the black glass of the abyss
A mirror of the image gushing in.
Hiding in plain sight behind a fake reality,
Echoes of the masked pulsing reflection
Clinging to the strands of a slain safety net.
Rejection eclipsed beneath every word
Slices open the thread-bare strings of confidence.
Solitary throbs as a dark entity
Carrying off the pending insanity.
© Kandi B., Vacherie, LA
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This article has 1 comment.
I read your poem - very deep and very well put!!!!
Sorry, I meant to rate your poem as a five star but hit the first star meaning to hit each one - but the system thought that was my rating. Not the case - this is most certainly a five star poem!!!