Vivid

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    Vivid

    i dream at the top of my lungs
    yet the black and white voices of disdain in this world
    will whisper to me of colors they fail to see
    their rainbow of illusion pouring upon them
    as dewdrops on butterfly wings
    can you fathom how reality's weight must burden them?

    dream with me as loud as you dare
    paint my world with your unique color

    breathe life in
    exhale with song
    step out of the box
    color with me everywhere
    outside the lines

    delusional
    illusional
    illustrated
    infiltrated

    it's all grey matter

    i dream at the top of my lungs

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    VooDew’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Verizon 1
    Threnody 0
    Vivid 0
    Dear John Letter 0
    No Dawn 0