True Colors Poem by Tony Berndtsson

Small footsteeps on the floor
What is going on here
Strange noises behind the door
Who goes there

Clapping my hands does nothing
The batteries are no good
My thoughts are all climbing
The situation is understood

While hiding in the corner
All my acts are dropped
I think I am back to the former
My foolishness has stopped

I do not want to keep this up
All my life I have been so unclear
I am me and no filled cup
In this moment, I can hear

A wonderful feeling warms my chest
And now, it is all over me
This is the absolute best
This is my favorite guarantee

I am on a field covered with flowers
All else is a guess
We laugh because this is ours
Drop dead, you stupid loneliness


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