Hanging On To The Dove's Balcony Poem by Adam Lally

Hanging On To The Dove's Balcony



As the news spreads the blues
like loci down lonely avenues
sad patients in the gambling hall
whistling till their pennies are small

Insurance men sell silk handshakes
to the dirty gravedigger's backaches
while the pencil pusher's stopwatch
butchers a quick game of hopscotch

fleece faces lay on granite floors
disheartened by dusty seesaws
feeling themselves slip away
falling off the walls of decay

The fortune teller's eye
cries whispers of sanguine
for sometimes the delusions
hurt less than reality's contusions

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Adam Lally

Adam Lally

Manchester, England
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