White and black that fades to grey inside. 
White faces, spiked with gold 
and silver rose but grey as steel. 

Grey men,
crayon marks 
                  skipping over black lines 
             of shapes hardly made 
when finishing is the only aim.

Colour is for dreaming 
and no dreams enter this space. 
Dreaming would bring pain perhaps 
so lets not entertain it.

They walk in droves alone, 
a herd of one and one and one 
                                    and so on. 
But only ever one alone. 
Wildebeest of this terrain, 
one falls, the rest march on.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s