Why
Why, why
Why
Are these memories so hard to pin down?
Why are the images of the you
Gazing at the red rose memorial sadly,
Sadly merged and smudged
On a canvas, I not only don't possess
Or Own
But can't see either.
Do you really want to" mess with my head"?
Are you the wannabe?
Or a different whoerbe?
Are you many different people?
All of whom I admit puzzle me,
In this world where puzzles are many and diverse.
For red roses to me, mean a
A long ago funeral of a long lost parent
From a partner left bereft and lost
In a world not understood alone.
No long ago  red and rosy posy
Sent from a special person to me;
Or reciprocated,
In my many varied past.
I could be speaking to anyone
Because anyone always has An identity
That is smudged and merged also.
So...
We all stumble and roll
In the fog of a faceless and a
Beaurocratic
Mess
Even they have lost themselves in,
Leaving the rest of us
In seas too
Deep and wide to navigate safely it seems.
Prove us wrong.