Oxymoronic
Marooned on an island where the sun never sets
Where the sky's always tinged a certain hue
We'll party along with all the other guests
Our mood will be a brashly-subtle reddest blue
We'll be free to run slowly through our waking sleep
Pushing through that pleasurable pain
Tell each other stories filled with honest lies
And then tell them for the first time, once again
We could sit around the fire eating jumbo shrimp
We'll declare that they're disgustingly delicious
Pretend they're awfully good when cooked under wet flames
While admitting that they're pointlessly nutritious
And our troubles would be few, growing smaller every day
Though the deafening silence could be bitter sweet
If we're found to be missing, our hope could soar like lead balloons
As even-odds, they'll send a rescue fleet
The open secret will always be, that we wanted to remain
That our leaving there was filled with such sweet sorrow
They'll be right and they'll be wrong, for we truly understand
There are wise fools and ordered chaos each tomorrow
Copyright © David Lindsay | Year Posted 2016
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