The seams fall apart
And nothing holds together.
The truth is revealed:
The seemingly-coloured
Were always colourless…
Displaced amidst the fanfare,
Awkward in the make-believe,
Disillusioned and unhappy,
She searches, for substance
And truth: what she always
Believed she saw…
But
They don't exist.
Gathering the torn strands
She must walk on
Salvaging, as much
Of herself as she can
In a plethora of lies.
The journey is now
Colourless
More wearying
Much more worthless
But she will take it
Hoping to come out
Unscathed
Unviolated
And whole.
i think i read this 1 before
ReplyDeletenice!! but very common life-is-a-journey-with-hurdles theme...
Yep, you have read this one before. I showed it to you after I wrote it in 2005.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, I agree. The theme is not very original.