Pink Flamingoes and White Swans
This life of perpetual goodbyes
Is so sad and funereal-parlor depressing
That it drives me mad!
I might laugh hilariously
At the open grave of a friend
And extend him a hand
And pull his dead-ass
Right out of the hole
For one more shot of whiskey
Before his eyes
Are all dirt-covered with oblivion.
When I was five,
I thought everything was going to be
Pink flamingoes and white swans,
River moonlight giving way
To golden dawns,
Beautiful girls barely-clad
With delicate smiles;
I thought I would do it all with style.
Predictably, nothing has been that way,
Merely long days of discontent,
Disconsolate beneath streetlights and in alleyways
And every moment searching frantically
For a path of escape from debilitating loneliness,
But I now understand I’m here and I’m trapped.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Added by Poetry Lover
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