What about those who don’t play by the rules

Who neither know them nor want to know them
They’ve got this play which never turns them into a game
Of midnight hunters chasing the tail of their own ego
They play the play of colourful fibers
Knit the rainbows in their head
They are the last to judge and the first to lift their eyes
Awe struck before the possibility of sight
Don’t hang your words on the eyes of a child
Growing into the Child
The way you put patches
Onto the holes of your own emptiness
The Future will laugh at you
©М iroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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