http://www.poemswords.com/post/181824801633
For my poet friends
who still wears drab colours
of gloom
who still grieves
believing that what she
lost was a lover,
whereas destiny kissed her
with the voluntary exit
of a looter, a Rogue Rover
in camouflage of love
The sun rises
off with your sack clothes
clad yourself in colors of gold
of bloom, of boom and
throw a ball to welcome
freedom
Reflections 