Nine - Rebecca Wesolowski (my reading book TXT) 📗

I spy, with my big brown eyes.
Faces upon the tree’s, leaving the sun with loving smiles, standing over dusk.
A face around a cold world, with wisdom smothered all over its beard.
Silence in the face of the valley, with a sprinkle of innocence.
Bodies along the branches, bodies on the bottom.
…….I can’t see anything,
But I spy a new world beyond the tree.


*******


Vancouver

As a wee lad, I floated in from Vancouver. The skies were dull, the flowers were brown and the rhythm was dead.

A far cry from home, home in Vancouver. Where people sang, and life was jolly with colors pink green and red.

A lass, I grew up here in the Anti-Vancouver. Among frowns, business and boredom.

There was no treats, sun, or play. There was no imagination, no love.

In fact, when I asked for a hug I was put on probation.

The buildings hissed as I strolled by, telling me to walk with my head to the ground.

The evening spit in my face, but I held up my umbrella and smiled.

Anti-Vancouver, I pity you. For one day, I’ll escape to my wonderfull home yet again.


*******


Tomorrow’s feelings are washed up all around me.
It or what’s that is, an unheard weary soul waiting to be set free?
Perhaps it’s only an act to hide your faults, that vastly continue through.
Then it’s expected to receive a lively wish, a heart filled prayer?
Oh maybe I stand here misunderstood,
For those words surely aren’t coming from my mouth.
As I look in the eyes of a fallen star, a dieing form of energy,
Words get tied around my tongue, and stuffed down my throat.
Loving you is not real.
Real is a relationship where I can look you in the face without gagging.

Publication Date: 04-22-2010

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