July 1, 2013 Off By Fried Guest

–Poem By Les Bush

Would you hold my balloons please?

I am troubled and sad.

I have so many of them,

I have lost count.

I have balloons of many colours,

shapes and size.

Some I have earned,

some I have not;

some I have collected,

or picked up in passing.

There are those I lusted for and

learned too late, everything has a price;

some were thrust upon me,

by fortune or fate.

Some are very old,

handed to me at birth;

they bespeak a taint

of some obscure crime.


My problem is perspective.

My balloons have,

over time accumulated

and become entangled;

the strings have become twisted,

entwined, tangled and knotted.


Would you hold my balloons please?

I give them to someone I can trust,

step back and view them from afar,

from this angle and that,


One day it would be my privilege

were you to ask me to hold yours.

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