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Roses drawn on hands, on arms, and on cuffs of jeans.
Stars encircle wrists,
like constellations.
Little quotes and lovers' names.
Small remembrances and inside jokes galore.
Vines, plant and meme alike.
But little drawn roses are my favorite.
* * *
* *
*

Faces of friends, of people i met earlier
are  glittering stars on this late evening's
dark blue sky...their smiles are tattooed
in my mind...they're  hunched, going
lower by the days...slowed down by years.
it must be hard and painful...the arching,
the drooping of the neck, the curving spine,
they endure all, 'til each day's end...they rise
each new dawn...do what they still can do,
lest they stagnate in their aging ponds,
diminish to a state, where food, pills, or
forgotten information are forced on them,
......like drugs, injected into the veins

........................
these wee hours bring back the years...
they  have been good...never mind the
hard times...there were, there are good ones
life is a long, wide stream of changing hues,
flowing on and on....my water bears the
colors each new day brings...gray, at times
with sadness and gloom....other days,
blacked by despair...some summers, red,
roseate with glee, or green with life and
hope...blue, when trust is spilling, and
the tranquil sea and sky overwhelm,
with a promise of stability..........white,
when accepting......the unacceptable...
........................
the amber grains and i, are alike
ripened enough to be plucked
be pulled out from an existence...the
signs are known...shown...yet, i wait
for when it is due to happen...and while
waiting, the stalks sway, play and dance  
and enjoy the sun and wind...and i,
while i still can...walk, jump, climb hills
and valleys in this mammoth space
of land and water.............called life
...................
the sounds of my days, i still hear,
i am a lute, a harp, a cello...playing
off-key.....out of tune at times,
my strings are my graying hair,
i still can't stop dying the gray
i still want to highlight the dark,
but, one day, all these will cease...
............
one night, my face will be in one of those
many stars...glittering on a dark blue sky
sending a smile, to my loved ones...
...................
there is no other way, but forward
all are headed....towards an end...


Sally



© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      June 26, 2018
...ahhh, the rains...do make us reflect longer on life...
Fictional scenarios are a dangerous matter.
They warp the minds eye into a fake reality.
Giving false feelings or exaggerated real ones a sense of security.
A bit of feeling turns us all into dreamy-eyed wishers.
We let them take hold in a time of boredom, sadness, or as a form of escapism.
However, it is not a bad thing to be a wisher.
These scenarios have given us new meaning.
We see the potential and feel the intriguing ambrosia of what could be if we just try hard enough and take a chance.
Fictional scenarios are a work of our mindscape, but they don always have to be made up.
ivé been having weird dreams and got inspired.
  Jan 2020 TheGirlYouThoughtYouKnew
jay
intoxicated by sadness
in love with madness
I HAD NO FREAKING CLUE WHAT TO NAME THIS SO YEA
  Jan 2020 TheGirlYouThoughtYouKnew
Ann
when a heart broken
lover
pours out all
her feelings and
translates them onto
words. something
beautiful gets created.
appreciated by many but
never the one
she's always written her
heart out for.
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