Things As They Are In Our Town, Your Town Too

they're bleeding all colours dry I dreamed
let's go from here before they've dried us all up too
what's left of me or you

I do not like the words they use

the way they use the words I used to love at home
before they got ahold of them and droned
and tamed them down

with a world weary sound resounding
I am sophisticated look at me
what can the child know about mystery, rainbows...

only, they're somehow there for joy, for glee
I would have thought defensively and striking back
that way from my small desk  though wordlessly

if I had an inkling then what was going on there
since then we are ruled by mobs and learn to disguise
our fingerpainted sobs early on.

isn' t that the most that can be known, we're here for joy
and that's the code
not to be dragged by the ear

and made to memorize from year to year the rules colors
really are not there; we only think we see them,
phenomenon,deplaned- over and oversville explained,

trick of the eye exult the masters
it made me cry 

to see the magic drain from it all
under a stern unflinching eye.
I still wake up to the dazzling day,

my rudimentary skies,
feeling that way.
me and my rainbows, packed to go.

mary angela douglas 21 july 2018