Life is cruel

The walls are to seperate,

The lonely and forgotten,

The fallible and fickle.

 

A step in water,

To break the bones,

And shatter the splintered iron.

 

Rainbows do form during this storm,

After the recedings,

Beneath the greener pastures.

 

This place of reality,

Is not real,

And the ant cannot step with boots,

Over to the other side of the maginot line.

 

Control me not,

Knotting me another flower,

A delicate rose that dwindles,

placed in my hand this way sideways.

 

I find solace in fantasy,

A greatest of pleasures,

But feel hollow once again.

 

Life is cruel.

◄ Total lunar eclipse

Lonely by definition ►

Comments

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Ankita Srivastava

Fri 13th Sep 2019 22:21

Making the pain of soul as medium to grow and enlighten someone is the best way of living.
Really nice poetry.

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Martin Elder

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 10:30

Adrian where do you get these fabulous lines. Magnificent in all that it says. I particularly love the line

And the ant cannot step with boots,
Over to the other side of the maginot line.

wonderful

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keith jeffries

Sun 1st Sep 2019 09:55

Adrian,

This is an excellent poem especially the opening line. Instead of walls why can´t we build bridges. It seems that throughout life we are pushing or being pushed. Fantasy is a brief interlude into which we can escape but reality lies close around the next corner. Yes, life is cruel.

Thank you for this
Keith

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