Swinging your way to greatest,
Far across time.
Seems so miniscule now,
I wonder if I’m dreaming.
Getting lost is a specialty of mine,
All great humour and joy
is made to have fun.
But what if all the fun is gone,
And the flare is no longer to be exalted.
We wouldn’t want that now, wouldn’t we?
We came here to be free; breaking from the shackles of
being told what to do even though we’re not in school.
I guess I can imagine myself swinging
to greatest. But not so high on that
pedestal; I’m only human.
YOU ARE READING
La Coiffure
PoetryAllons-y! Down a saccharine trail; why? I may ask what it will bring. Does the past have a history; Where's the visionary input? On our clothes, in our hair. We as women seem to forget the boon that set us forward- our glamorous minds never cease...
