Ranting, because it feels good.
Hurtling,
Top speed, to the gut,
Would be easier.
Kinder, I'd say,than indifference.
These layers,of paint
Crack in the corner when I smile.
The red nose is getting weary
The shoes, really are ridiculously long, the tiny tricycle, tiresome
The space you demanded, stamping your feet over, and over,
And over,
One day, pretty soon,
Will become a one way route.
No, Big, Top,
No Ringmaster,
No elephants paraded
Just a tightrope walker, with broken ankles,all cried out,
Asking the tiger to finish it.
In her sacred caravan,
A heart, turned to stone,
In a box that she hid well, called Neglect.
Poetry by Frances
Read 449 times
Written on 2025-09-29 at 23:27
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Not so Great Show Woman
Full on, unexpected loss,Hurtling,
Top speed, to the gut,
Would be easier.
Kinder, I'd say,than indifference.
These layers,of paint
Crack in the corner when I smile.
The red nose is getting weary
The shoes, really are ridiculously long, the tiny tricycle, tiresome
The space you demanded, stamping your feet over, and over,
And over,
One day, pretty soon,
Will become a one way route.
No, Big, Top,
No Ringmaster,
No elephants paraded
Just a tightrope walker, with broken ankles,all cried out,
Asking the tiger to finish it.
In her sacred caravan,
A heart, turned to stone,
In a box that she hid well, called Neglect.
Poetry by Frances
Read 449 times
Written on 2025-09-29 at 23:27
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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