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Apple's Scorn, Her Life Over

Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

Life is much like bubbles blown away.

Life is much like bubbles blown away.

Why oh apple tree, old and wise, do you bother to bother me
Pointing your bony limbs to a place of a scornful stream?
I just craved, but she is dull, still I craved a bit of food to see
My belly is on the ground so black; my tears do redeem.

Ignorance wrapped in stems thin, my eyes hinted a light
So bright. She teased, laughed, and mocked me once.
No knowledge, no stairs, no bent knees, just her plight
I speak of jesters so blue, satin silk in failing lungs.

Turtles reign a silent girl, devising her crown
Her slow walking, eyes winking,
A tapestry strong, she belongs, bowing down,
Ravens awaken, owls think, her life sinking.

Little stars with angels' scars of hope of sunshine
Hobos of love stared meadows of darkness move
Oh, rainbow stay on an arm, rain cold, yes, be mine.
I seek but a moment of life, a lily, a turtle dove.

I slowly, surely, sit stationary lean
Lips talk wisdom of clear-cut, ice-wrinkled face
Fading I move, vapor I am heat between.
Loving a heart, a damsel's heart in dust, in race.

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Writer's Summary:

Life is in a way, a mirror reflecting a clear vision and pathway in which we all use to make our way from one end to another. I felt anxious many times when love would appear to me, then slowly fade and grow cold. This, I suppose, is to fit the Grand Scheme of Things.

Thanks, Kenneth

© 2021 Kenneth Avery