A facade / Poem by Lily Swarn


Poem by Lily Swarn
 
 
A facade
 
They may be russet and ripened
Gold painted or plated
They may be orange flamed and fiery
Brown pigmented or sepia
They may be curled up and wizened
Weary hearted or gnarled
They may be blushing red and rosy
Crimson cheeked or flushed
 
They are autumn leaves you know
And they don’t want to go
They know they will have to fall down
Heels will crush them
Birds and chipmunks will frisk and frolic in their heaps
Their golden booty is merely a facade
For their life has run its course
They know their death is imminent
They are aware that there is no cure
What flowers one day must perish
 
It’s their last bid for fame
The resplendent show of colours
The burning fires of hues
It’s just to console themselves with my scarlet lipstick shade !
 
Copyright Lily Swarn 28.10.2017
 
 
 
Lily Swarn
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