the usual thing , you know it’s coming ,
happens every time.
a turn of your head
or blink…… then it’s happened .
with no reason or rhyme
like a badly done mime
or a disjointed ,fragmented sentence.
that reforms itself
into something ressembling
a completed rubiks cube.
a marsh mallow sky
at the end of the day.
a previously unknown piccasso,
it lights up your head
and gives you a grin
suddenly things seem much better .
‘cos everythings rosey and bright
when a friend says “it’s alright ”

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