Tuesday Morning - Poem by Maia AlmediaAmir
Sometimes you've got to learn just to smile,
Accept, if not love, the monster inside.
Who else will wake you and your
Sleepy bones to rise at gone twelve on this night?
Who else will draw you, cumbersome from your bed
Stir your sleeping soul to gaze from the awkward window
Only the monster inside.
...Unto the nevermore sturring street below.
Lit only by one streetlamp, girl you'll gase
Withdraw a moment and fumble upon the cool white
Desk for the lumbersome glasses,
Swift turn and focus now upon the cool white
Land where You are now Queen.
The air is fresh like last year,
And the year before that
And your night-time senses reawaken
You are shaken
From your bed, you wish to walk amongst the crystals
The fairydust (or is it frost)
That has fallen in your sweet absence.
Your skin is chill, and each breath
Takes more skin from your lips
But it gets better still.
You wish to walk upon your newfound Kingdom.
Clad only in that embarrassingly thin
Pink and black silky number.
Your toes, already cold from the draft wish to feel the crunch
And hiss of the icesnow breaking and giving.
Only an inch or so thick, but it holds so much.
You are Wendy returned from Neverland,
And so you must grow up.
And walking upon the beauty before you
Is not at all grown up.
It seems only some lavish tire tracks,
Are worthy enough to marr the perfect visage.
A click on the stairs and the spell is broken.
Reluctantly the Queen is fallen and she remembers that
She is not a Queen at all.
No more than a glorified insomniac
Marvling at the wonders that pass the world by
And driven by the monster inside.
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