Colorblind people,
waiting at stoplights,
assess the location
of undefined brightness,
and I don’t know you
so I do the same,
gauging the level
of your expressions,
high, low or middle,
not knowing their nature,
through pedestrian eyes.
Filed in: Poetry
4 comments:
Like the parallels you draw with this poem.
Very nice.
sure hope this ain't about me. Good stuff, though ;)
Signed,
Your overly concerned wife
Yes, that would be sad, wouldn't it. But fortunately, this poem was inspired merely by a stoplight and one of those surreal "hey, what about-?" moments. Nothing more. :) Really.
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