Two and Two

 

Two and two make a weird combination,

A blend of evens in a world of chaos,

I’ve lived in sorrowed deep commemoration,

And so perfection isn’t on my level,

 

I circle around thoughts and happy times,

When stuck on nothing but a loop of agony,

So I curse but bask in those erstwhile smiles,

And traipse the earth as these demons follow me,

 

I hate the ripple and the burst of water drops,

And the hue of light in the summer rivulets,

I stay fixated on the gator’s muddy ponds,

In it I see all my dreaming ricochet,

 

I see the two and two and think of perfect days,

Of kisses, hugs, and pecks, and love of budding souls,

I think it bugs so I must stand and say,

“That bubbling feeling tastes to me so foul!”