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Life is an Allusion
Life is an allusion.
She’s a wicked witch. He’s a nasty Grinch.
We can’t be placed into a genre.
We’re as unchanging as the seasons.
A basic simile.
The inference that we all make on a daily basis is not intelligent at all.
Completely different.
Everything we do is somehow a complete satire.
The opposite; almost like irony which we’re surrounded by everyday.
An incoherent, figurative language is spoken,
We never know what to say or do.
Is it literal or not.
Life is alliteration in the making.
Anxiously awaiting another annihilation announcing another abomination.
Life is assonance going on and on.
Slowly suppressing something sliding sullenly, sickeningly into our hearts.
The metaphors by which we live are incredulous.
She is the light in my sky.
He is the heart inside of me.
The idioms are even more surprising.
Jump off a bridge.
Take your bow.
But how we live by the hyperbole “Life is a never ending chess game”
Is the only thing that makes sense
poem
by
Vanessa Kingsley
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