My Broken Glasses

I wish I had rainbow on my lips, glittering skin and rosy-coloured glasses on my eyes, walking down the street.  But the bitter sweet confessions rolling out of my tongue attracts only silence. Is it the rumblings in my head or sounds cars in the distance? Or is it the wine of my thoughts that have dragged me out to witness insanity? Corners of the street I stand like a shadow of humanity; on the silver sheets of dreams I talk to mirrors, addressing to all of the fraternity.