The Fickle Hand of Fate
living within my head, wonderland
Alice through the looking glass
at all my dreams and aspirations
my rainbow hued world, warm and inviting
until reality silently clawed into my subconscious,
reaching out, harshly pulling me into its world
subdued in stark greys, no vibrancy, just mediocrity
where all my tomorrows would be the same as my yesterdays
that cold calculating fickle hand of fate, destroyer of childhood
captor of imagination, steeling vision and staining windows of my soul
Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2006
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