Dreams In Shades Poem by Myrtle Thomas

Dreams In Shades

Dreams In Shades Of Black

dreams in hibernation
cold in up front showcase
' behind sparkling eyes, crystal chandiliers '
are broken shards of glass
cutting through self examination in smiling disguise

empty baskets of emotion set on shelves alone
' no advertisement of welcome ', seems no ones at home
in darkness of a valley sits in solitude a humble home in shambles
in tear drops brought down

roof tops uncover a shallow sister soul relative to none
hindered to disable a heart beyond repair
no surgeon nor sutures to mend
progress further and go on

dead to feelings are her emotions
like cremation ashes in a box
delivered by the mortician in black suit
befit the occation with a carnation in lapel

walking bridges of despair slowly, climbing mountains
inwardly going nowhere
she sees nothing worthwhile to live for
except a heart enlarged to burst
catching bubbles of happiness in sky high landscapes

enveloped in humble pie
she lays her napkin down to wait, for indigestion another cross to bear.
burdens uncomfortable, not hers at all
like a mule put out to pasture, she isn't any good to bare
life lead her to the firing range as the marks of trouble scared her soul
driven by love for the most part, until her heart seen the blackness
of the ebony that surrounded her, lay down your soul, spill your blood and go
thinking back in golden sunshine where daisies danced in the wind
a time when she saw blue skies and nature being a friend
scrambled misery haunted her the souls from the past
unkind memories now nightmares even in the daylight
the shades of ebony slip in, darkness encases her like the fridgid artic ice
no one can help her for her mind fills so full of trash
cutting sharp with objects seems to help her feel just for a while
but brands her like live stock something she wasn't looking for

there is no smile nor sparkle, for the shades were pulled completely down
this time she was looking for the color of indigo that turns red
ebony is good for the night fall for the strong in mind to sleep in
but the lonliness and tired of living it is a prison they detest

This is about the deep depression that carries some to cut themselves to feel.

Gajanan Mishra 15 August 2014

no smile, no sparkle, thanks, good one.

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