Tuesday, December 2, 2008

wax poetic

Outside The Lines

we stand atop the green hill,
the yellow sun in a blue sky
giving no hint of a world running down,
ready to sit still instead of spinning on

peach stick hands, hers in mine, mine in hers,
holding on for dear life to a day in danger
of stopping dead in its tracks

the golden rule, broken by those who made it,
we discover was made to be broken

and so
color ourselves outside the lines
in a childish attempt to escape
the consequences of growing up

No comments: