the streets creeping <br />through the midnight <br />of the little town <br /> <br />the world crumbles <br />seen through the laughter <br />of an alcoholic haze <br /> <br />'My eyes filled to the brim <br />with dozens of Pink Ladies! ' <br />sight deserts her <br /> <br />carcasses of animals <br />dancing from hook to hook <br />in butcher's shop <br /> <br />she had become a paper doll <br />of herself <br />cut out from the world <br /> <br />she dressed herself <br />in various moods <br />that clashed violently <br /> <br />'I'm wearing my happy hat <br />and my fake smile! ' <br />the world falls for it <br /> <br />between the two <br />pillows <br />the continent of loneliness <br /> <br />an afternoon's sun <br />clinking amongst the ice cubes <br />silence <br /> <br />the moon <br />pressing silence <br />into shadow <br /> <br />lady in pink <br />drinking a Pink Lady <br />her smile slipping <br /> <br />'I am always <br />another person <br />I can't recognise! ' <br /> <br />the little garden <br />dancing joyfully <br />with Spring <br /> <br />doves coo in cages <br />a night <br />walks by<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/parfois-la-folie-est-la-sagesse/
