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Illusionists

by Adrian Calhoun

Just a vapour of smoke in the air,
nothing more than a whisp.
What we have is only temporary,
gone before it can even be captured.
The very breath you take,
is as short as life itself.

Never a moment to hesitate,
or you'll miss it all.
Encircled by your dreams,
as frail as dew on mornings grass,
the footsteps are all erased.

Paint a vivid picture,
use a wide coarse brush,
dare to take bold strokes.
Never fear the colors all running together,
there is no primary.
Your mind is the pallet.

Nothing lasts forever,
here today, gone tomorrow.
What you see,
not always what you get.
We are merely illusions,
in a world of mirrors and neon lights.

04/16/2004

Posted on 05/29/2004
Copyright © 2024 Adrian Calhoun

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 05/30/04 at 11:34 AM

Very well expressed! You echo the thoughts of Solomon, "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!"; the psalmist who said we are as the grass of the field; St. Paul said this life is but a shadow!

Posted by Lori Johnson on 06/02/04 at 05:11 PM

Preach on, you speak the truth! :)

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