Dishwater Dull

She meekly chased after
nonexistent moonbeams
  in rose fashioned pipe
       dreamt illusions, 
as visual stimuli to
        rock her existence 
of inky stark impressions,
  inciting some exertion
       in her bland universe, 
she was ever so ordinarily dull
even her reflection in the
    deepest sapphire seas,  
  appeared drab as dishwater,
she lived in a world of her
   own fabricated deceptions.
yet, she wondered why every
      coercive consequence was an
   analogy hued of washed-out gray
 releasing shady gasps of Pandora's box
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Smith Avatar
October 12, 2016 at 11:12 AM
There was a sense of sadness carried throughout as if her life never lived up to her dreams.
P  Avatar
October 12, 2016 at 11:50 AM
I don't think many people live up to their dreamt expectations, but yes, she's a sad creature. Thanks Tim.
Green Avatar
October 12, 2016 at 9:33 AM
Dark and deep is the sink this one came from it seems. These suds continue to grow until they overflow within a nightmare of wrinkled skin and worried thoughts. This was crazy good Paloma.
P  Avatar
October 12, 2016 at 9:38 AM
This is actually an old one I was never crazy about, I reworked it, I'm thrilled it took you there, 'wrinkled skin' oh no! :)
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