Stuck in the starry sky,
A glittering bulb of light,
Overlooks the game of life,
With a silent silver smile.
Little children are we,
Hiding in big bodies,
Pretending to each other,
Reveling in trickery.
From the terrace high,
Look down from the sky,
Little alley below,
Beckons you to go.
Leave behind your innocence,
For another night,
Somnolent city sleepeth,
Time to close your eyes.
(Picture - Marcelle Lender Dancing the Bolero in "Chilpéric" by Toulouse-Lautrec)
5 comments:
We're all just kids in adult bodies, aren't we?
At least I know I am. ^_^
Young at heart, isn't that the way we are suppose to be? And although grown, aren't many of our actions so immature?
I often catch myself immature at times and childish. Guess that really who we are: CHILDREN. just that some are older than others.
nice poem!
Deepa:
Here's a silent silver smile for you!
:-)
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