Rose-Colored Glasses. A poem.

The rose-colored glasses slipped away
and I saw you as you really are,
crowned in wishful thinking and spoilt
disparity of thought, overwrought,
less than I expected and more than I assumed.

I guess I didn’t know what I wanted,
or why you made me blue,
just another misdirected convolution
leading me astray, as always.

Got to get my mind in gear,
stop crunching the shift, driving in reverse,
overcome my hapless fears and get back on course.
And where would that be?
I’m not really sure.

But I am sure I’ll make the same mistake again,
unless I can come up with a way
to rewire my faulty brain.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

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