Monday, February 23, 2015

poem of the day February 23


The one
thing
missing
was the
painting
of the ball
Nothing else
existed now 
except 
memories
of the fall
The artist
had been 
drinking
and forgot
to paint
the wall
where
fantasies
of prince
and princess
walked the
ancient hall
Now
everyone
left are
simply
voyeurs
of the old
who can
only 
imagine
what happened
on the canvas
to them all

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