bunch of roses without fragrance
bland
winding rivers without water
all sand
smiling as an actress
acting on a script
no truth, unreal
all rehearsed
imagination on the roll
no flesh to hold
no sounds to hear
just silence floating in the air
all fakes, fabricated
all illusions so alluring
beguiling, smiling
falsely at your face...
a sad poem, this if fiction rules your world...glad for I'm a realist, how about you? :> and I think I'm kinda odd for I smile on my sad poems, laughs...it's just like a joke to me. Oh well, at least I can entertain myself :>
