Pink Cats and Purple Trees
I wish I could tell you why I think of pink cats and purple trees.
Or why when my soul wants to cry, I blot the tears and not
let them free.
I wish I could tell you what goes inside the mind of the Phoenix
in its blaze. Or what Faustus felt when he sold his soul to
Lucifer for twenty fours of bliss.
I wish I could tell you why I rush headlong to places angels
fear to tread. Or why I throw away all I have for pink cats
and purple trees.
I wish I could tell you if behind his mask the clown really laughs.
Or if he cries like I believe he does.
I wish I could tell why I am not wise or why I cannot make myself
wiser. Or if love is as I see it or if it's nothing than a moment's
lust.
I wish I could tell you all. But I know I cannot because I don't
know the what, how or why of things. I only know that as I stood
in the Spring rains, something told me my life would never be
the same. Now I know nothing is the same, everything has changed.
I don't know where I left behind all those childhood dreams.
I only know I've reached a stage where I desire nothing anymore.
Except that you keep your pink cats and purple trees. Though
God knows, I never thought years ago that you'd have them this
way.
I cannot even tell you if I'm right or wrong. But I pray you
learn to forgive me someday for not stopping your tiny hand from
forming your pink cats and purple trees.
By: Tess
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