Open-eyed I ventured out by buss
what a treat, fairy tale upon fairy tale
each man, each woman a story
some of them thrillers, some idyls
One man was blue in the face, deepset eyes
I sensed how he whispered "beware"
"this colour of blue stings worse than my breath"
Another one looked like turned inside out
raw flesh, angry eyes, blood on his sleeves
I dared not look at his slow, grating vibrations
What had happened and why did the woman cry?
She came as his shadow, pregnant and haggard
her empty eyes spoke volumes of abuse
Then there was the elderly man who clung to his briefcase
he obviously feared a thieving hand in his pocket
the briefcase may be his home-office, bank and soul-abode
A young girl looked like she was lost in the wood of the witch
maybe a younger sister of those lost babes in the wood?
All eyes were upon her, but she averted hers
And so on and so on, each a novel or a fairy tale
some doomed, some on the brink of new lives or none at all
each of them an eternal soul embedded in vulnerable flesh
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-11-02 17:10:39
Last Login: 05.22.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 99
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