Pendulums
What hangs from my eyes as
I look down?
A crystal pendulum spinning
In the sunlights rays
Maybe it spins for fear of something new being on the other side of it by the time
It gets back around?
A different environment.
Nothing special,
Just a brilliant green colour
Shattered among the hazel
Tinted fragments pieced together
the day I was born
As if a child were unhappy with his finished puzzle, too perfect for his life
It did not match so he changed it
Into the spaced out depths of my
Green pendulums, swinging.
-Benjamiin
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Pendulums
PoetBenjamin Fowler