Predicting Interpretations



Oh crystal ball,
what have you for me now?
Death, demise;
or just a smoky dust cloud?

Is it your blue wisp,
a deep sorrow in futures?
Or perhaps watching the oceans,
as a tender love matures?

Is it a red billow,
something of dashed hope?
Or perhaps love itself,
something to help me cope.

Can I see your grey now?
It is all you have left to show for.
Even though our encounter is brief,
you know I want more.

A sudden purple,
frustration of a kind?
Or is it a budding romance;
something to still my mind?

Floral pink fills you now;
something luminescent.
Perhaps a wanderlust,
with another; fluorescent?

The smoke is gone,
I am left to shambles.
Away from you is where I go,
crawl and deadly scramble.

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Angie's Diary