Wafts, wefts of hopes, tangled
in life’s ribbons, all are clichés,
first date kisses; cowardly stolen,
diluted to colourless yarn.
Lawn of memories, dandelion bloom littered
insolently demanding attention.
Coat of bravado,
threadbare and excuses bleached;
No need to tie complimentary bows
to slip-on friends,
who are but existences hollow echoes.
They are broken bottles, discarded,
empty of substance.
I plagiarize hearts sorrow,
stitch it to coat-sleeve bravado.
Promises weaved into romances web,
until lies are love-bite branded.
My life; esoteric,
fashioned from second-hand words
lip-read from B-movies.
I look into my heart,
Hear emptiness echo
and can only marvel at how
loud my voice seems.
Copyright © Colin Marschall