Camelot

Camelot

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Pastel

Oh my darling
You paint my story well
The map of my life
Is etched in every pore and cell
Every bump and curve
Has an epic to tell
Like the time
I was a rebel
Without a clue
And when I was in hell
With only one shoe
Minute expressions
Can even foretell
Where the next wrinkle will be
My, ain't that swell
This tired old soul
In this tired old shell
Has little left to dole
And little left to sell
But one thing is for certain
When for me shall toll the bell
You will see so very clearly
That I didn't live my life in pastel


Copyright © Allene Angelica 2014