That day after his birthday
my mind is tormented
by all those white walls
just like that long stare
cooled to bottles and blicks
so my mind is tormented
by all those long hours
thinking, re-thinking intoxicated
like wooden doors shed
to sit in the paint again, I bet
my mind is tormented
by all those minutes concentrated
like the Boeing's departure
penetrated
my heart is in deep torture
my soul deteriorated
three days have elapsed
since the last rainbow I detected
up above so many coloured impressions
memories coming to the surface,
many tawny reflections
all kinds of delightful expressions
darling, my mind is still tormented,
never stories told, no secrets ever unfolded
while driving homewards in silence
quite sad reminiscence
the rainbow on my right hand
on the horizon
is still a bright coloured band
but will soon be oblivion
like this partition....
© Sylvia Frances Chan
28th February 2014
23.55 hrs.p.m.WETime