Do not speak of Elephants
In rooms, on roofs
In threes or twos
In sweet corner shade
In solitude
This Elephant does stand
So proud
Staring down a silent crowd
Two tusks hanging thick as swords
Beckon, calling, trumpet
War
And then some soul does speak it’s name
And points out all their acts of shame
Cringing from the turn of heads
The elephant does blush in red
Does blush in red till crowds forget
Then greys in shadows under beds
Till full of pomp he rears again
And Elephant returns unsaid.
cool xo Dim
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Thank you sweet misery.
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