her rose colored glasses
broke,
and that changed
everything.
the lens cracked,
the frames bent.
no longer was she fun
or perky
in the morning,
there were no more
cheery greetings
and salutations
to be said.
she finally saw things
as they really
were, not the way
she imagined behind
glass,
tinted red.
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
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1 comment:
I love your poetry.
This poem is really moving.
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