The Desaturated People Poem by Gabriell Riley

The Desaturated People



Psychedelic butterflies and desaturated people
No wonder I sat and watched the world warp around me
Like the ripples of a frigid pond
That little boy's skip stones across and giggle
Their laughter floats through the tree's
And flit their dragonfly dance
From leaf to leaf without so much as a whisper
Glass wings a mirror that is cracked
Seven years bad luck and a pinch of salt over your shoulder
A crack, your back will never be the same
As our bodies are crippled by age
Still the butterfly colours are perfectly mad
And people are superficial and sad

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