Ricardo Sexton


She imagines flower’s contrast
Colors not found in gardens yet
She has imaginary towers that,
To every question, answers yes

She has eyes that hide gnosis
Fears, which she won’t reveal
In the imperfect ‘bed of roses’
Divided in half for her conceal

She looks at this overcast sky
And, is amused at the unseen
As images slowly fades, to die
Promising what she’ll never be

Light like the air, she is stealth
She left, to no return, to no help
As you & I… everyone else pays
She too crys to know who she is

As she begins to float in pursuit
She wins a look but sees no fruit
Strange! The grey change to blue
Unbelievable! ‘Stem won’t bloom’

Now, the rules… no longer apply
She has said goodbye to ‘a peace’
It’s not good or bad. – It’s just fine
To her, that’s simply… who she is

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