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Daniel Barrell Poem
A rich yellow Balloon,
happily adopted by a little man,
Balloon thinks hold my ribbon,
and I will guide you lovingly.
Suddenly a gust of wind,
and the little man seems smaller,
an outstretched arm and a tear,
and with that, Balloon is all alone.
A city tower stands tall,
Balloon only knows up,
reflections in the windows,
of a bald yellow face ascending.
Six floors up, grumpy giants,
suits pointing grumpy orders,
twenty, and an uptight woman spills coffee,
Balloon wanted to save her notes.
Higher now, a sign reads elevater,
a secret card game on the roof,
employees on look out,
Balloon chuckles, he won't tell.
Time stops as Balloon sets gaze on Sun,
blushes from her and an idea, lightbulb,
Balloon inhales, rises smooth to Sunset,
little man witnesses the pop.
Skin floats gently to ant city,
little man shudders, can't bare to look,
little man bursts into tears.
Copyright © Daniel Barrell | Year Posted 2014
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