Read Poetry: Don’t Paint the Roses, by A. Gouedard

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she remembered she was falling
reaching for a cake crumb
swallowing a draught
that completely turned her head

 

she was running round the roses
painting red and white
challenging the chess board
to maneuvers in the dark

 

she had a distant memory
of a love that struck a spark
but the tables all kept turning
when he tried to take her hand

 

in the horrors and delusions
that stalked this troubled land
he loved her all the time
but he had lost his mind

 

lovers often lose their way
whether they are sane or mad
all is topsy-turvy
when the news is always bad

 

they race around in shadows
trying to find a light
their dreams become a nightmare
ruining their night

 

but up above the stars shine out
constellations point the path
if only they could both sit down
gazing up at last

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