orange

by Rue, Libra INTJ - Not entered

My orange self drains slowly
   From this living husk of mine
Flows over the green flakes of paint
   That are a park bench
Dribbles from the wooden slats
   To pool on the soft, moist earth
To mingle with the sunlight
   And the flowers
Home

Reason for writing:

    None given    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-10-24 20:56:14
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:05
Poem ID: 45892

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