Laughing upside down,
Turning round and round.
Running down to where
I found you on the stairs.

Hell, if I know.
Can’t you see how angry I am?
Can’t you feel the fleas
Biting you, happily?

Are you my friend?
Sometimes, I don’t know.
Often, I feel like I am
All alone.

Who was that on the phone?
Was it the one that was
To blame for all these things
That tear me from you from me?

How happily you say that
When you tell me
How much you hate to see
Things come together rhythmically.

Are you really here?
Will you be staying long?
Will my frown turn to a smile
When I see you come clean?

What do you think
It looks like to be happy?
Who do you think
Is really that way?



Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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