Lost Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Lost



Bored with reality's exciting facets
rolled up, emotion stashed out of
sight, only the lone aspect of duty
in the office unrolled, dealing with
a headache I climbed onto desks
to spread sunscreens because the
oblique angle of the sun means we
are fried every day and my dwarf
head can't stand much heat before
it melts - taking my intellect with it

I fired my imagination by reading
the next pages of ‘Making Money'
with scenes of havoc where Adora
Belle challenges a Golem known as
Gladys to use etiquette for dirty boot
Watchmen to open the safe - no use,
I can't leave the multifaceted reel of
fantasy to continue with bland white
reality hiding all colourful aspects
crossing my boredom threshold

I want to be the prism breaking up
the uniform white rays of reality into
their constituent colours and enjoy
the images on my mental screen be-
cause the headache does not want
to abate and I have lost the faculty
of logic and rational thought

‘Making Money' by Terry Pratchett

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