Silver Reflectors Poem by Vera Sidhwa

Yeah, beginning story tellers,
As numerous as orange fruit on boughs.
Sore-throated singers to listen to,
And I listen,
You make a first class fool out of me, oh Maggie.

True, you've seen them all,
Maybe you have.
Sure I've seen them,
Seen singers, well....

But today alone prevails
With jammed empty streams
Ice and no lite.

Yeah, yet they rite on and sing,
As if no more time is left,
And they scream they got 'nothing in the world.'
Sure, aha, I see girls holding on to their boyfriends.

Torn shoes with holy clothes,
Colored rags of flash and flash on entertainers.
Do they know what they are singing about?
Sure, we've all seen love and yet..

One can repeat the swame mistakes all,
Over, again, silver reflectors,
Shattered mirror,
Can't think coherently. Same mistake