Watching bubbles

 

Colors and shapes give way to

bubbles forming and flying high;

memories crawling into my mind –

beauty is the contrast of a frightened

reality – hiding the true content

of something older than time itself -

Below the surface, a moment's glance

of different lives' pictures dance

Then I stick my finger out to touch

reaching for the thing I need so much

that it hurts when they become

undone – so the secret is gone –

on a crowded afternoon street.

Author's Note

Note pls:
1. English is not my mother tongue
2. Form is not intended to be perfect

Reviews

[Sugar Plum ♥]

Very good, even so brilliant writing, and your English is very good..!!

[Ashley the Fox]

English really isn't your mother language?! Wow... That depresses me. This piece is beautifull, capturing alot of emotions and feelings in so few lines. And the imperfection of the form just adds to. I love this!

[robin]

On a crowded street
should we ever meet
I would sing to you
sweet sister thing
you've got a touch
of the BEAT!,

Not bad for a second language, Mother Tongue!,
Robin

[[untitled]]

I think this is very original in presentation, and is well written. You should submit it in the "experimental writing" contest. Thank you for sharing

[Rainbowco]

Simply wonderful, English does not need to be your mother tongue, you penned this quite nicely. There is great beauty in imperfections, although if you had not mentioned I would have thought it perfect.

[Tomás Ó C..]

No probs, many English native speakers cant hold a poem as god as this one. The use of colours is perfect too...