The acrobats

January 9, 2010
Swimming around
In their worlds of colors
The acrobats fly weightless
Through the honest colors
Of red, purple, green and blue
Without regret or shame, they dance
To the musical notes being sung
In metallic mother voices
Past the restraint
The acrobats burst
Through the trivial idea
Of gravity
That would only hold them down
As they fly
Fly high to the hunted archer
Who holds the gate open
Malicious triangles, squares
And circles block their way
To his rooted spot
Between the earth and the sky
But they'll keep going
Their need is too great
Until they reach the blessed
And cursed white
That is neither above or beneath
The hunted archer's sore, tired

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