Half-Life Painting Poem by Danielle Mari Nidea

Once there was a man
Who went to his window.
He looked at the sidewalk
(That's three floors below) .
There's hundreds of people
In this busy street.
So many, you won't have to
Be that discrete.

I'm guessing that there's
A ninety percent
Of people in suits
And business intent.
The rest is all dressed
In costumes of clowns,
Honking their horns
And opposite frowns.

The man sure is bored
With the corporate folks.
But he laughs out his life
At the walking egg yolks.
All was just fine
'Til the traffic got jammed.
The man looked around
So he would understand.

Time becomes still
As a lady in white
Walks down the highway
Like the moon of tonight.
Her fine silky hair
is tied to a bun.
But she looks so scared-
What has she done?

Her grand bridal gown
Is crumpled a lot
And her frail little heart
Is nearing to rot.
It turns out she ran from
A life full of figures
By corporate folks and
Dull gray-scale pictures.

The man's eyes sparkle
Just by looking at her.
The clowns he once loved,
He no longer preferred.
And time stands still
In this little reflection
Coded in pictures
And rhyme imperfection.