PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Yesterday fell only seconds short of magic
because I just had to take my time
instead of falling
D
    O
       W
           N,
falling down the rabbit hole
headfirst
like it should be done.

But listen -- 
there was once a bed
in a roomi

in a house
down the side street and to the left
where the speed limit was only 10 miles an hour;
where you and I broke the sound barrier.

And in this bed
in this house
down that shabby little street
paradise fell from the clouds to engulf us
(or maybe we fell into it)
and all I could see was green.

It felt as if I was flying
(or falling,
it's all the same really)
as we came,
you came,
home.
For home is where the heart is after all
or so they seem to say.

Who rules the world but the masses anyway?
Am I right?
Or is that another assumption that will take you from me.
Because I've already won you back once
and I don't have it in me for another go. 'Round and 'round

on the merry-go-round
that played our theme music at the fair
as I ate cotton spun sugar
and you sipped your coffee.
     "Black, like my heart,"
you had said once,
but I know you just couldn't afford coffee laced with gold.

But back up the street,
three right turns from Memory Lane
in that shabby little house on the left
where I just had to take my time
the world stopped

and we fell down the rabbit hole.
They call our names,

but we're not listening
because we're still falling
or maybe we're flying
it all feels the same
as we come
home.