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| flipping through old notebooks
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mommy, is there such a thing as an indigo child?
indigo child,
how do you see?
they say you always see blue, they do,
but perhaps its not true; surely that's not all you see.
indigo child,
how do you smell?
you know those rice socks you throw in the microwave to heat?
like that, plus a little of something else, unidentifyable...
but altogether good enough to eat.
indigo child,
how do you speak?
intelligent, yet you slur your words
like a bum walking down the street.
indigo child how do you feel?
being so special, it must be unique.
the lobes of your ears?
the toes on your feet?
indigo child, how do you taste?
like something undescribably sweet
like the sunshine on a rainy day
like tea and cake and wheat.
a poem about a story
oh my gosh, look at him!
he's so great he's so fine.
i'll be just like him,
and make him mine.
###
i'm a new person,
just for you.
i've got new clothes
and i've got new shoes.
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why won't you notice me?
ignoring me is like a whack
to my face and to my heart.
i guess i'll just change back.
###
my friend say it wasn't supposed to happen,
my friend says it wasn't mean to be,
my friend says i should find somebody else,
and my friend likes me for me.
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| Blog Comments
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Nice! Thank you for sharing your talent.
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Posted by smilinirisheyes
on 2007-11-24 17:01:51
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| Views: 82
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