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by Paul D
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Activity · #2193115
Gotta call it something.
Hearing discordant voices,
I move to the right,
and to the right,
and to the right,
and right out the exit.

Dodging between cars
on the road, bicycles
on the sidewalk, people,
tripping, off balance, falling,
bouncing, then spinning.

Breaking a few bones -
I'm a true break dancer,
finding a new high
when the Dr. gives me
a shot for pain – dancing again.

I practice my tripping, falling,
bouncing, breaking dance,
and the hospital welcomes me
with an open bed. Pain meds
help me dance on clouds.

I dance into the record books;
the library frowns on discordant music,
and takes away my library card.
I move to the right, to the right,
and right out the exit.

* * *

25 lines

Form: free verse

Note: I was in the hospital recently, and yes the pain meds can create strange dreams – but this was not one of them.
© Copyright 2019 Paul D (pdmarques at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2193115