WHEN you were silent, you became
like a flower, so honest, so true,
so beatiful, then you put on your
make up, and disapeard into this
cold, and plastic world.
WHEN you cried, your inner child
came out fighting like a boxer,
only to be knucked down, from
the meanness of this cold, and plastic world.
STILL you fight,
still you laugh,
still you love,
and paint by numbers...
but the lesson is never forgotten.....
not even once.
excellent, David, beauty & compassion. but she doesn't have to be silent to be like a flower, so honest, so true. Sus
DAVID...I LIKE THIS A LOT..VERY MYSTERIOUS, SURREAL, AND YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT WHO SHE IS...MAYBE A THOUGHT TO MUSE ON AS A REPLACEMENT COLLECTION FOR 23 FITZ, WHAT DO YOU THINK? FRANK/FJR
paint or no paint you still got to face yourself...learn lessons and grow...nalini
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
David we all are masked at shambles? isn't it?